^ 


.# 


5 


^ 


#) 


"2 

c 
CO 


CO 


CO 

a* 

O 
O 


-a 
o>  ^  o 

rOMH   O 

•  <  o 

CQ 
o      •* 

m  o  <d 

rH  rH  -a 

>  to  SJ 
OQ  Eh  W 


J| 


7 


u 


y  ^Yr:>9nt^^^ 


SUNDAY  SCHOOL 


lolngtrajpli. 


REV.   ALFRED  ^TAYLOR, 


PASTOR    OF    THE    PRESBYTERIAN    CUUBCH, 
BRISTOL,   PA. 


WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION 

By  JOHN  S.  HART.  LL.  D. 


BOSTON 


NO.     9     CORNUILL. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1864, 

By  henry  HOYT, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  Massachusetts. 


INTRODUCTION 


The  author  of  the  following  Sketches,  is  widely 
known,  —  first,  as  a  successful  Sabbath  School  Mis- 
sionary ;  secondly,  as  a  Pastor,  who,  in  his  own  church, 
has  given  special  attention  to  the  cultivation  of  this 
department  of  the  field  of  ministerial  labor;  and, 
lastly,  as  a  writer,  who  has  most  happily  "photo- 
graphed," for  the  use  of  others,  the  results  of  his  own 
observation  and  experience.  His  pictures  are  so  life- 
like as  to  have  caused  some  almost  ludicrous  mistakes; 
persons  of  whom  the  author  had  never  heard,  and  liv- 
ing in  various  and  widely  distant  States,  often  imagin- 
ing themselves  to  have  sat  for  the  portraits ;  and  in 
some  instances,  sending  angry  complaints  to  the  editor 
about  the  supposed  personalities.  As  these  papers  all 
appeared  originally  in  the  ^'■Sunday  School  Times ^J  I 


IV  INTRODUCTION. 

have  liad  a  good  opportunity  of  judging  both  of  their 
merits  and  of  their  acceptance  with  the  public  ;  and  I 
think  I  am  safe  in  sayhig,  that  no  series  of  articles, 
that  has  appeared  in  that  paper,  has  attracted  more 
attention  among  Sabbath  School  men,  or  been  more 
generally  approved,  or  whose  republication  has  been 
more  frequently  called  for.  They  deserve  to  take 
their  place  among  the  permanent  literature  of  the 
cause.  The  volume  which  contains  them  is  one  which 
ought  to  finds  its  way  upon  the  table  of  every  Sabbath 
School  man,  and  of  every  friend  of  Sabbath  Schools. 

John  S.  Hart. 
Philadelphia^  January,  1864. 


CONTENTS. 


STJFEPlX:i>TTEIsriD  EHSTTS. 

CHAPTER  I. 
The  Fidgety  Superintekdent 9 

CHAPTER  n. 
The  Heavy  Superintendent • 14 

CHAPTER  m. 
The  Consequential  Superintendent 19 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  Slovenly  Superintendent 24 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  Successful  Superintendent 30 


CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Heedless  Teacher 37 

CHAPTER  Vn. 
The  Shallow  Teacher 43 

CHAPTER  Vm. 
The  Abgdmentaiive  Teacher 48 


Vl  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IX. 
The  Inexperienced  Teacher 53 

CHxlPTER  X. 
The  Dull  Teacher   59 

CHAPTER  XI. 
The  Wearisome  Teacher 65 

CHAPTER  Xn. 
The  Unconverted  Teacher 70 

CHAPTER  Xm. 
The  Inconstant  Teacher 77 

CHAPTER  XrV. 
The  Disagreeable  Teacher 83 

CIUPTER  XV. 
The  Uneasy  Teacher 88 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
The  A3IIABLE  Teacher 94 

CHAPTER  XVn. 
The  Regularly  Late  Teacher 99 

CHAPTER   XVm. 
The  Traditional  Teacher 105 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
The  Excellent  Te.4.cher Ill 

CHAPTER  XX. 
The  Mischievous  Scholar 117 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
The  Lazy  Scholar 123 

CHAPTER  XXn. 
The  Precooioub  Scholar 127 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

CHAPTER  XXm. 
The  Rebellious  Scholar 133 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
The  Careless  Scholar 139 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
The  Too  Big  Scholar. 144 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
The  Scholar  who  does  not  Learn 149 

CHAPTER  XXVn. 
The  First-Rate  Scholar 155 


CHAPTER  XXVin. 
Sunday  School  Speech  IMaking 160 

CHAPTER   XXIX. 
The  Pompous  Speaker .' 166 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
The  Long-Winded  Speaker 171 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 
At  the  Convention 177 

CHAPTER  XXXn. 
The  Empty  jVIan 185 

CHAPTER  XXXIH. 
The  Dull  Speaker  —   191 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 
The  Talking  Superintendent 197 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 
The  Stuffed  Children 203 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 
Thb  Peripatetic  Bore 215 


Viii  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXXVn. 
The  Apologetic  Speaker 221 

CHAPTER  XXXVm. 
The  Untimely  Speaker 228 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 
The  Ridiculous  Speaker 234 

CHAPTER  XL, 
In  the  Pulpit 241 

CHAPTER  XLI. 
The  Truly  Eloquent  Speaker 248 

CHAPTER  XLH. 
**And  the  Speech  pleased  the  Lord". 255 


SUPERINTENDENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  Fidgety  Superintendent 

U4  HIS  person  is  constitutionally  uneasy. 
VL^  He  is  in  a  stew  at  home,  at  his  place  of 
business,  and  wherever  else  he  goes.  He 
never  was  thoughtfully  calm  for  five  minutes 
at  a  time.  He  unwittingly  puts  into  a  stew 
those  with  whom  he  associates  or  has  business. 
It  would  be  well  if,  in  putting  on  his  Sunday 
clothes,  he  could  clothe  himself  with  a  garb 
of  quiet  dignity,  but  he  cannot.  So  he  brings 
his  e very-day  manners  and  customs  with  him, 
as  he  comes  to  the  discharge  of  his  official 
duties  in  the  Sunday  School.  His  entrance 
into    the    school-room    introduces    a   general 


10  THE    FIDGETY    SFPERIXTENDENT. 


odor  of  disquietude  and  restlessness.  He 
seems  to  have  been  shaved  with  a  dull  razor, 
or  bitten  by  venomous  insects.  Probably 
both.  As  he  constantly  boils  over  on  the 
subject  of  punctuality,  he  is  careful  not  to 
be  after  the  time  for  the  opening  of  school. 
But  he  hurriedly  bolts  into  the  school-room 
just  as  the  clock  is  on  the  strike,  and  as  hur- 
riedly arranges  his  affairs,  so  that  the  opening 
of  the  school  may  at  once  proceed. 

His  opening  exercises  are  as  when  a  can  of 
fermented  preserves  is  opened.  Great  ebuli- 
tion  ;  little  orderly  propriety.  His  ways  are 
different.  Sometimes  a  hymn,  a  chapter,  a 
prayer.  Sometimes  a  hymn,  a  prayer,  a  chap- 
ter. Sometimes  no  chapter,  sometimes  no 
prayer.  Generally  without  the  care  in  se- 
lection and  arrangement  which  is  desirable. 
Always  lacking  in  that  spirit  of  earnest  de- 
votion which  should  mark  every  religious 
exercise.  The  school  is  opened,  or  rather 
torn  open,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  jar  the  re- 
ligious feelings  of  all   right-minded  teachers. 


THE   FIDGETY   SUPERINTENDENT.  11 

The  exercises  of  study  are  due,  but  the 
impetuous  official  has  a  notice  to  give,  or  a 
new  reo'ulation  to  announce.  He  rinjys  the 
bell  with  violence,  and  failing  to  gain  the 
attention  he  desires,  thumps  on  the  desk  with 
a  stick  till  enough  noise  is  made  to  cause 
everybody  to  look  and  listen.  The  notice 
or  regulation  is  an  unimportant  one,  which 
might  have  been  otherwise  disposed  of.  The 
Library  duties,  contrived  as  awkwardly  as 
possible,  are  then  attended  to.  Five  adjutant 
superintendents,  under  the  name  of  secreta- 
ries, then  march  round,  attending  to  the  roll, 
which  our  fidgety  friend  might  as  well  do 
himself,  but  for  the  fact  that  he  does  not  see 
how  one  man  can  do  so  much  work. 

The  school  is  fairly  set  in  motion.  Not  the 
stately  and  dignified  motion  of  the  well 
freighted  and  balanced  ocean-steamer,  but  the 
nervous  wriggling  of  the  little  unballasted 
skifi",  which  a  flaw  of  wind  may  upset  at  any 
moment.  A  constant  buzz  is  heard  when  the 
superintendent  moves  round.     Not  the  buzz 


1'2  THE   FIDGETY    SUPERINTEXDENT. 

of  the  busy  bee,  children  industriously  study- 
ins:  and  recitino: ;  but  somethinsr  more  like 
the  buzzing  of  a  family  of  hornets,  as  he  goes 
from  class  to  class,  stimulating  teachers  and 
scholars  with  some  ever  new  species  of  worry. 
The  boys  are  a  special  plague  to  him.  The 
girls  constantly  minister  to  his  vexation.  As 
for  his  teachers,  never  were  such  an  inefficient 
set  known  to  be  in  any  one  school.  The  ven- 
tilating apparatus  distresses  him.  The  ar- 
rangement of  the  shutters  and  blinds  requires 
his  unremitting  attention.  He  flutters  at  the 
stove,  and  disturbs  the  school  by  making  a 
noise  w^ith  the  poker.  He  bothers  the  libra- 
rian until  that  officer  is  on  the  point  of  resign- 
ing.    The  sexton  is  his  natural  enemy. 

The  fidgety  superintendent  has  no  lack  of 
rules  and  regulations.  In  fact,  he  has  too 
many ;  enough  for  several  Sunday  Schools. 
He  has  so  many  that  it  is  impossible  to  en- 
force a  quarter  of  them.  Some  of  them  con- 
flict with  others.  Most  of  them  are  the  pro- 
duct of  his  own  unassisted  wisdom.      Some 


THE   FIDGETY    SUPERINTENDENT.  13 


of  them  have  been  extemporized  for  particu- 
lar occasions.  For  instance,  when  a  boy  (not 
too  able  bodied)  has  behaved  badly,  the  school 
is  reminded  of  the  rale  that  all  such  boys  so 
behaving,  shall  be  made  an  example  of,  by 
being  temporarily  imprisoned  in  the  coal-cel- 
lar. With  strong  cries  and  great  hustling, 
the  evil-doer  is  thus  made  an  example  of,  the 
bigger  boys  wishing  that  he  had  tried  it  on 
them,  that  they  might  see  whether  bo}^  or  su- 
perintendent vfould  go  to  that  dimly  lighted 
place  of  punishment.  The  school  is  thrown 
into  confusion.  Superintendent  declares  that 
among  such  a  set  it  is  impossible  to  keep  or- 
der, and  that  the  school  is  rapidly  going  to 
destruction.  So  it  is.  And  if  the  teachers 
value  the  school,  and  think  it  worth  saving, 
the  best  thing  they  can  do  is  to  call  a  special 
meeting,  unanimously  request  Mr.  Fidgety  to 
consider  himself  put  out,  and  then  elect  a 
wiser  and  more  placid  man  in  his  place. 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  Heavy  Superintendent. 

u,aE  is  a  good  man,  but  very  cliill.  A  man 
^i  of  considerable  ability  in  some  things. 
iS'ot  necessarily  an  old  man,  though  some- 
times chronologically  exempt  from  active  ser- 
vice. He  means  well.  He  wants  to  do  as 
well  as  he  knows  how,  for  the  weitarc  of  the 
school.  He  has  the  respect  and  affection  of 
the  minister  and  good  people  of  the  church. 
He  is  a  respectable  man,  and  a  respectable 
superintendent.  But  he  puts  the  children  to 
sleep.  The  Sunday  School  slumbers  under 
his  ponderous  administration. 

He  leads  the  school  along  in  one  old  rut, 
the  same  rut  that  it  always  has  travelled  in. 
The  old  rut  is  worn  not  wide,  but  deep.  So 
deep  that  the  superintendent  stands  in  it  up 
to  his  eyes  and  ears.     He  can    neither  see 


THE   HEAVY    SUPERINTENDENT.  15 


nor  hear  what  is  gohig  on  outside  of  it.  It 
would  be  impossil>le  for  him  to  drive  out  of 
it.  The  school  sings  the  same  hjanns,  learns 
the  same  lessons,  prays  the  same  prayers, 
uses  the  same  books,  that  it  did  twenty  years 
ago.  These  met  the  requirements  of  that  day, 
and  why  should  they  not  of  the  present  ?  If 
any  teacher,  scholar,  or  friend  suggests  an 
improvement  or  alteration  in  any  of  the  old 
established  modes  of  conducting  afiairs,  he 
is  met  with  the  serious,  apprehensive  face  of 
this  solid  man,  so  suggestive  of  the  peril  the 
school  would  run  by  stepping  out  of  the  path 
of  ancient  precedent,  that  he  is  at  once  struck 
with  a  deep  sense  of  his  audacity  in  suggest- 
ing that  which  if  carried  out,  would  have  hur- 
ried the  whole  concern  to  disgraceful  ruin. 

The  school  is  a  small  one.  The  scholars 
are  those  who  have  been  born  in  it,  or  have 
naturally  wandered  into  it.  Most  of  them 
go  from  force  cf  habit.  They  have  been  told 
it  is  right  to  go  to  Sunday  School.  They  do 
not  go  because  they  are  interested.     There  is 


16  THE   HEAVY    SUPERINTENDENT. 


nothing  to  excite  especial  interest  in  the 
childish  mind.  They  are  tolerably  well  be- 
haved, orderly,  stagnant  children.  There  is 
no  missionary  effort,  no  lively  energy  in  the 
school.  Some  exhuberant  young  converts 
once  tried  it,  but  the  heavy  head  went  to 
the  pastor,  and  asked  him  if  he  thought  they 
had  better,  and  he  thought  they  had  better 
not,  and  so  they  wilted  into  submissive  in- 
activity. 

The  con2fre2ration  are  aware  of  the  existence 
of  this  school.  They  know  it  in  two  ways. 
They  see  the  children  coming  out  of  it  when 
church  begins  ;  and  they  have  the  opportuni- 
ty of  contributing  something  to  the  yearly 
collection  which  is  taken  up  for  its  expenses. 
This  is  all  they  know  about  it.  The  children 
are  not  numerous  enough  to  make  a  disturb- 
ance, nor  the  expense  great  enough  to  neces- 
sitate a  large  collection.  It  is  an  inoffensive 
Sunday  School. 

This  heavy  superintendent  is  regular  and 
punctual  in  all  that  he  does.     He  has  never 


THE    HEAVY    SUPERINTENDENT.  17 


been  late.  He  has  never  been  flurried  in  the 
performance  of  his  duty.  He  never  foiled  to 
write  up  his  record-book  neatly  with  ink,  and 
yet  without  blots.  His  absence  or  irregulari- 
ty would  be  as  quickly  noticed  as  would  the 
absence  or  want  of  perpendicularity  of  the 
church  steeple.  Departure  from  his  usual  un- 
ruffled dignity  would  be  as  novel  as  the  crack- 
ing of  a  joke  by  the  pastor  in  the  pulpit. 

In  conductiDg  the  exercises  of  the  school, 
our  friend  is  stately  and  solemn.  The  prayer 
at  the  opening  is  fifteen  minutes  long.  Al- 
though efibrts  have  been  made  to  keep  the 
children  in  devotional  attitude  and  silence 
during  its  continuance,  they  have  been  at- 
tended with  only  partial  success.  But  the 
heaviest  of  all  exercises  is  when  the  good  man 
makes  "a  few  remarks,"  commencing  with 
*'  My  dear  young  friends."  If  the  "  remarks  " 
are  prolonged  as  they  generally  are,  many  of 
the  "  dear  young  friends  "  have  to  be  waked 
up  at  their  close,  and  even  some  of  the  young- 
er  teachers  yield  to    the  general  feeling  of 


18  THE    HEAVY   SLTERINTENDENT. 


heaviness.  These  symptoms  of  weariness 
fail  to  ruffle  the  composure  of  the  speaker,  or 
to  bring  the  "remarks"  to  a  close  a  moment 
before  their  natural  expiration. 

The  time  of  usefulness  of  this  respectable 
old  seventy-four  ship-of-the-line  has  run  out. 
A  less  clumsy  craft,  even  though  of  less 
depth,  and  lighter  equipment,  would  be  more 
available  for  the  work  of  the  present  day. 
Let  our  fossil  superintendent  either  go  out  of 
service,  as  a  well-used  and  time-worn  monu- 
ment of  the  past,  or  else  let  him  get  himself 
razeed,  pitch  overboard  his  weighty  old 
smooth-bores,  and  rig  himself  with  all  the 
modern  rifled  improvements,  and  iron-clad 
sides.  Then,  in  the  Master's  strength,  he 
will  be  able  not  only  to  sail  in  the  shallow 
waters  where  the  enemy  of  souls  is  to  be  met, 
but  to  send  into  his  sides  such  telling  shots, 
as  will  cause  the  school  to  give  thanks  to  God 
for  the  new  efficiency  with  which  they  com* 
mence  in  earnest  to  "  fight  the  good  fight  of 
faith." 


CHAPTEE  III. 

The  Consequential  Superintendent. 

|E  is  an  elder  or  vestryman  of  the  church. 
A  well-to-do  merchant,  a  judge  of  the 
supreme  court,  or  a  bank  cashier.  He  has 
railroad  stock  in  his  safe,  and  money  to  his 
credit  in  bank.  Lives  in  a  fine  house,  drives 
excellent  horses,  and  sits  in  the  front  pew,  mid- 
dle aisle,  into  which  his  family  come  regularly 
^VG  minutes  after  the  minister  has  commenced 
service.  For  these  reasons,  and  not  on  ac- 
count of  any  particular  fitness  for  the  post, 
this  gentleman  has  been  elected  superintend- 
ent of  the  Sunday  School.  Very  great  is  the 
honor  which  he  has  conferred  on  the  church 
and  Sunday  School  by  his  acceptance.  In  the 
"  brief  remarks  "  which  he  made  on  the  occa- 
sion, he  told  them  that  they  must  not  look  to 
him  for  any  great  amount  of  labor  in  the  duties 

19 


20   THE    CONSEQUENTIAL   SUPERINTENDENT. 

connected  with  the  administration  of  the  school. 
The  school  should  have  his  influence  and  his 
sympathy. 

Prior  to  the  election  of  this  superintendent, 
the  school  had  been  somewhat  run  down.  The 
former  superintendent  was  a  plain  young  man, 
pious,  but  lacking  in  those  qualifications  which 
w^ould  enable  him  to  make  his  Sunday  School 
a  first-class  institution  in  the  eyes  of  the  con- 
gregation. The  school  needed  influence,  sym- 
pathy, and  a  long  pocket. 

Our  consequential  superintendent  has  come 
up  nobl}^  to  the  relief  of  the  school's  embar- 
rassments. Feeling  his  own  credit  and  char- 
acter involved,  he  has  paid  for  the  boo]i:s 
bought  on  credit  eighteen  months  ago,  and  for 
the  stoves  purchased  last  winter.  He  has 
also  removed  the  annoyance  caused  by  the 
duns  of  the  coal  dealer  for  his  little  bill,  the 
fuel  represented  by  w^hich  was  consumed  last 
winter.  But  with  this  liberality  comes  a  new 
embarrassment,  worse  than  mere  debt.  Tlie 
genlieman    considers    that    he   has    a   moral 


THE   CONSEQUENTIAL    SUPERINTENDENT.    21 


mortgage  on  the  school.  The  kindness  he 
has  done  it  can  never  be  repaid.  He  makes 
no  secret  of  the  success  of  his  efforts  to  save 
it  from  roin.  In  fact,  he  seems  to  own  the 
whole  establishment.  It  has  his  influence  and 
his  sympathy.  So  have  the  ser^^ants  in  his 
kitchen  and  the  horses  in  his  stable.  And  he 
consults  the  teachers  about  as  much  on  the 
business  of  the  school  as  he  consults  his  ser- 
vants or  horses  on  the  conduct  of  his  house- 
hold affairs. 

He  is  tolerably  regular  and  punctual  in  his 
attendance.  When  he  is  late  the  school  re- 
spectfully waits  for  him.  When  he  is  absent, 
somebody  else  takes  his  place.  Nobody  ven- 
tures to  susrsrest  to  him  that  he  should  mend 
in  this  respect,  for  everj  body  knows  that  a 
man  of  his  influence  has  so  much  to  attend  to 
during  the  week,  which  must  be  properly  at- 
tended to,  that  it  is  impossible  for  him  to 
attend  to  anything  properly  on  the  Sabbath. 
Besides,  suggestion  would  give  offence  to 
him,  which   would  be  impolitic.     He   might 


22    THE  CONSEQUENTIAL   SUPEKINTENDENT. 


remind  the  unreasonable  people  who  find 
fault,  that  it  is  a  great  favor  for  him  to  come 
at  all. 

His  manner,  while  on  duty,  is  the  manner  of 
a  brigadier  general.  He  is  not  only  the 
superintending  overseer  of  the  flock  commit- 
ted to  his  charge,  but  he  is  driver  and  com- 
mander. If  he  is  a  large  man  with  a  full  bass 
voice,  this  sets  well  on  him,  and  produces  a  fine 
impression  on  those  who  come  in  to  visit  the 
school.  If  he  is  a  little  man  with  a  squeaky 
voice,  it  is  very  ridiculous.  The  teachers 
would  prefer  a  less  dictatorial  manner.  The 
scholars  feel  that  whatever  sympathy  he  may 
profess  to  have  for  them,  they  cannot  get  up 
much  for  him. 

And  the  Sunday  School  feels  that  it  has 
made  a  bad  bargain.  It  has  looked  at  all  the 
man's  qualifications  except  the  right  ones,  in 
making  selection  of  him  as  head  ofiicer.  He 
was  put  in  to  compliment  him.  How  shall 
he  be  got  out  ?  Pastor,  teachers  and  friends, 
put  their  heads  together  to  invent  a  way     The 


THE   COXSEQUE^nTIAL    SUPERINTE3SDENT.    23 


way  seems  as  hard  to  find,  and  as  profitless 
when  found,  as  the  Northwest  Passage.  The 
debt  of  gratitude  due  him  for  extricating  the 
school  from  its  pecuniary  difficulties,  stands 
as  a  great  iceberg  in  the  way  of  removing  him. 
It  will  not  do  to  hurt  his  feelings.  He  will 
leave  the  church.  The  church  will  lose  his 
influence,  his  sympathy,  and  his  pew  rent. 
That  would  ruin  the  church.  The  only 
feasible  suggestion  made  for  getting  rid  of 
him,  is  to  wait  till  he  dies.  And  that  seems 
a  slow  way.  But  the  school,  in  terror  of  the 
great  man,  toils  on  under  his  unhappy  tyranny, 
year  after  year,  growing  weaker  and  more 
disordered,  like  the  dyspeptic  who  persists  in 
living  on  indigestible  food  ;  until  at  last,  when 
the  change  is  made  by  death  or  voluntary  re- 
tirement, what  is  left  of  the  unfortunate 
school  is  so  enfeebled  and  rickety,  that  the 
work  of  rebuilding  has  to  be  done  almost 
from  the  foundation. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

The  Slovenly  Superintendent. 


jST  Saturday  night  he  omitted  to  wind 
his  watch.  The  house  clock  is  off  duty 
by  reason  of  similar  omission.  There  is  no 
time-piece  in  the  house  that  can  show  what 
o'clock  it  is.  So  he  is  a  little  behind  time  in 
coming  into  school.  With  toilet  partially 
made,  breakfast  not  quite  eaten,  and  family 
prayers  omitted  for  want  of  time,  he  moves 
along  to  his  work,  one  moment  hurrying  be- 
cause he  is  late,  the  next  moment  slackening 
his  steps,  reflecting  that  as  he  has  been  punc- 
tual for  two  consecutive  Sundays,  it  is  no 
matter  if  he  is  late  to-day  ;  the  school  cannot 
begin  before  he  gets  there.  "I  forgot  to 
wind  my  watch  last  night,"  is  the  apologetic 
remark  to  the  knot  of  teachers  and  scholars 
awaiting  him  at  the  door.      "  Why  couldn't 


THE    SLOVENLY    SUPERINTENDENT.  25 


he  remember  about  his  watch  ?  "  is  the  almost 
audible  thought  of  the  hearers  of  the  lame 
apology. 

Our  friend  is  a  good  natured,  easy  soul. 
He  is  willing  to  have  tilings  done  right,  if 
anybody  will  do  them  right.  He  is  not  dis- 
pleased when  they  go  wrong.  He  says  he 
makes  the  best  of  it,  and  is  not  going  to  be 
worried  about  what  he  calls  the  minor  matters 
of  life.  His  religion  is  a  sort  of  slip-shod 
religion.  In  all  his  affairs  he  is  down  at  the 
heels.  There  is  no  arrangement  in  his  count- 
ing room  or  his  family.  His  children  rise 
when  they  please,  get  their  meals  "  when  it  is 
convenient,"  hoist  their  clothes  on  without 
much  regard  to  neatness  or  regularity ;  and 
the  only  thing  in  which  they  are  all  regular,  is 
their  late  attendance  on  the  means  of  grace. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  Sunday 
School  which  is  officered  by  the  slovenly  man, 
is  a  model  of  neatness  and  good  order.  It 
partakes  of  his  spirit  of  inefficiency  and  lack. 
There  sits  a  class  of  seven  boys,  crowding  to 


26  THE    SLOVENLY   SUPERINTENDENT, 


look  over  two  testaments.  One  dog-eared 
hymn  book  is  the  whole  musical  apparatus  of 
another  class  of  five  well-grown  children. 
Yonder  class  has  been  without  question  books 
for  a  month.  That  class  has  for  a  year 
borrowed  catechisms  from  its  next  neigh- 
bor. The  records  of  several  classes  have  for 
weeks  been  kept  on  soiled  slates,  because  the 
superintendent  "  really  forgot,"  each  week  to 
get  the  new  class  books  which  he  had  been 
promising  for  some  time.  One  class  studies 
in  Mark,  another  in  Hebrews,  another  in 
Ezekiel.  Each  teacher  is  obliged  to  try  to 
speak  louder  than  all  the  other  teachers,  so  as 
to  be  heard  above  the  general  hum.  Hence 
the  general  hum  is  so  great  that  everybody 
interferes  with  everybody  else.  There  is  no 
system,  no  neatness,  no  order.  The  whole 
school  is  at  loose  ends.  The  good-natured 
superintendent  says  that  he  never  had  an}'-  gift 
for  keeping  order  in  school.  Xobody  oilers 
to  contradict  him  in  this  opinion. 

The  record  book  which  is  kept  by  this  man, 


THE    SLOVENLY    SUPEKINTENDENT.  27 


looks  as  if  one  of  the  younger  classes  had 
been  using  it  for  a  copy  book.  There  are 
strokes,  pot  hooks,  crosses,  smears,  and 
blots.  The  first  page  was  kept  with  some 
neatness.  He  blotted  the  second,  and  then 
lost  his  ambition  to  keep  the  book  nicely. 
The  drawer  in  his  desk  contains  several  dis- 
used record  books,  put  out  of  service  on  ac- 
count of  the  many  blots  and  blunders  contain- 
ed in  them.  The  slovenly  superintendent 
often  gives  notice  from  the  desk,  that  the 
teachers  should  be  more  punctual  and  regular, 
and  that  the  scholars  must  be  more  orderly 
and  obedient.  But  it  is  like  the  fabulous  pater- 
nal crab,  who  exhorted  his  son  to  go  straight 
instead  of  crooked.  The  precept  is  so  barren 
of  example  as  to  carry  no  force  with  it,  and, 
like  most  of  this  officer's  laws  and  regula- 
tions, it  is  a  dead  letter.  They  all  know  that 
they  ought  to  do  better ;  so  he,  too,  knows 
that  he  ought  to  mend  in  almost  all  his  vrays. 
"Didn't  think  "  is  at  the  bottom  of  all  this 
well-meaning  man's  errors.     He  did  not  mean 


2S  THE    SLOVENLY   SUPERINTENDENT, 

to  be  untidy,  to  have  a  disorderly  school  or  a 
slatternly  record  book,  to  be  late,  to  let  his 
watch  run  down,  or  to  be  generally  slovenly. 
But  he  fails  to  be  systematically  thoughtful 
about  these  duties,  and  continual  short- 
comings bring  forth  the  ever  recurring  ex- 
cuse, "I  forgot,"  or  amplified,  "I  really  for- 
got all  about  it." 

The  time  of  teaching  is  over.  The  bell  is 
rudely  jangled  to  cause  the  learning  to  stop. 
No  intelligent  questioning  about  the  lesson, 
nor  even  an  announcement  of  next  Sunday's 
lesson,  for  each  class  studies  (or  omits  to 
study)  the  lesson  of  its  own  selection.  But 
there  are  sundry  notices  to  be  given  out,  and 
they  serve  for  closing  exercises.  Mr.  Sloven- 
ly announces  that  there  will  be  a  prayer-meet- 
ing on  Wednesday  and  lecture  on  Friday  and 
monthly  concert  on  Monday  and  the  annual 
pic-nic  on  Thursday  and  the  funeral  of  Aman- 
da Jones  this  afternoon  all  to  commence  at 
half  past   seven  o'clock  until  further  notice. 

Of  course  the  teachers  remember  all  these. 


THE    SLOVENLY    SUPERINTENDENT.  29 


No  matter,  he  has  given  them  out,  and  that  ia 
all  he  has  to  do  with  it.  The  school  is  then, 
not  exactly  dismissed,  but  rather  dispersed. 
Slovenly  goes  to  his  home,  intending  to  make 
a  resolution  to  institute  a  general  reform. 
But  his  good  intentions  do  not  come  to  a  head. 
He  forgets  them.  He  blunders  on  in  the 
same  old  way,  and  the  school  blunders  and 
stumbles  along  with  him,  and  they  will  con- 
tinue to  blunder  and  stumble  and  forget  to- 
gether, so  long  as  they  both  shall  live. 


CHAPTEE  Y. 

The  Successful  Superintendent. 

'If^E  is  a  good  superintendent,  and  there- 
fore successful.  A  man  of  intelligence 
and  of  some  degree  of  information.  He  was 
not  elected  because  of  his  being  a  judge,  an 
elder,  a  deacon,  or  a  bank  president,  nor  be- 
cause he  is  the  oldest,  the  youngest,  the  most 
popular,  or  the  best  looking  man  in  the 
church.  The  teachers  chose  him  because  of 
his  fitness  for  the  duties  of  the  office.  When 
he  was  elected,  he  did  not  consume  half  an 
hour  of  the  precious  time  of  the  meeting,  in 
poor  apologies  and  regrets  at  not  being  able 
"  to  perform  in  a  proper  and  satisfactory  man- 
ner, the  laborious  and  responsible  duties  of 
the  high  station  and  important  position  in 
which,  by  their  unanimous  and  most  compli- 
mentary action  they   had   placed  him."     Nor 


THE  SUCCESSFUL  SUPEEINTENDENT.   31 


did  he  suggest,  (all  the  while  meaning  to  ac- 
cept,) that  Mr.  Fidgety,  Mr.  Heavy,  or  one 
of  the  other  candidates  who  did  not  get  a 
single  vote,  could  fill  the  office  better  than  he 
could.  Pie  went  at  it  like  an  honest  man  and 
a  Christian. 

Regularly  and  with  punctuality  has  he  per- 
severed in  the  work.  He  keeps  sound  over- 
shoes and  a  good  nmbrella,  and  is  not  com- 
pelled to  stay  at  home  on  rainy  days.  You 
can  set  your  watch  by  his  opening  and  dis- 
missal of  the  school.  He  does  not  forget  that 
the  whole  body  of  teachers,  old  and  young, 
will  come  late  if  he  is  late,  and  that  if  he  is 
punctual  they  will  all,  excepting  two  or  three 
incorrigibly  heedless  ones,  be  punctual  too. 

When  he  arrives  at  school,  it  is  under- 
stood that  he  has  come  with  a  definite 
purpose,  and  not  to  let  things  straggle  along 
the  best  way  they  can.  With  courteous  firm- 
ness he  goes  about  the  business  of  the  school. 
He,  as  pleasantly  as  possible,  corrects  what  is 
wrong,  according  to  the  best  of  his  ability. 


32        THE    SUCCESSFUL   SUPERINTENDENT. 

By  some  apparent  magic  he  smooths  down 
the  crust}^  teacher,  and  quiets  the  turbulent 
one.  He  has  succeeded  in  briu^'ino-  to  nauijht 
the  plans  of  Mr.  Books,  the  Librarian,  who 
in  two  years  has  invented  fifteen  new  w^ays  of 
keeping  the  library,  each  worse  than  its  pre- 
decessor. He  has  quieted  ]Mr.  Whimsick,  the 
singing  man,  who  bought  all  the  new  flash 
tune-books  as  soon  as  published,  and  insisted 
that  the  school  should  sing  them  all  through. 
And  yet  he  keeps  all  these  people  in  a  good 
humor.  The  boys  and  girls  love  him,  even  if 
he  is  a  pretty  strict  disciplinarian.  They 
know  that  if  they  are  good  scholars,  disci- 
pline will  not  be  exercised  on  them. 

He  is  neat  in  his  ways.  You  can  examine 
the  record  of  the  school  since  his  election, 
and  find  a  well-kept  and  correct  history  of 
its  transactions.  There  is  a  general  air  of 
tidiness,  and  absence  of  boisterous  doings, 
throu<?hout  all  the  affairs  of  the  school.  The 
whole  concern  goes  like  w^ell-oiled  clock 
work. 


THE  SUCCESSFUL  SUPERINTENDENT.    33 


Not  many  speeches  are  heard  from  the  lips 
of  this  superinteudent,  but  whenever  he  opens 
his  mouth  he  says  something  worth  remem- 
bering. He  does  not  talk  against  time,  nor 
utter  great  swelling  words  when  he  has  noth- 
ing to  say.  When  a  friend  or  stranger 
visits  the  school,  burdened  with  a  speech 
which  must  be  delivered,  he  endeavors  to 
choose  between  the  man  who  will  instruct 
the  children  and  the  one  who  will  only  utter 
long  strung  nonsense.  Sometimes,  however, 
he  makes  a  mistake,  and  allows  Mr.  Windy- 
wordy  to  have  his  say,  but  is  carefuj  not  to 
invite  him  again. 

As  a  good  railroad  conductor  understands 
everything  about  his  train,  from  driving  the 
engine  to  oiling  the  car- wheels,  and  can  give 
wise  directions  to  those  whose  duty  it  is  to 
attend  to  these  things,  so  our  superintend- 
ent can  preside,  keep  order,  teach  any  class 
that  may  be  without  a  teacher,  look  after  the 
library,  do  the  singing,  and  even  take  the 
place  of  the  sexton  in  case  of  necessity.     Not 


34    THE  SUCCESSFUL  SUPERINTENDENT. 


that  he  does  all  these  at  once,  or  any  one  of 
them  in  a  way,  or  at  a  time  to  interfere  with 
others  in  the  discharge  of  their  duty.  But  he 
can  do  them  all,  and  the  teachers  and  scholars 
know  it,  and  the  knowledge  does  not  hui-t 
him  in  their  ej^es. 

If  he  were  not  a  man  of  prayer,  he  would 
find  it  impossible  to  attain  this  excellence. 
JBut  he  is  in  the  habit  of  constant  and  earn- 
est praj^er.  Not  only  are  his  pu'hlic  prayers 
well  uttered,  and  edifying  to  those  who  are  to 
join  in  them,  but  they  come  from  his  heart, 
and  God  hears  them.  In  his  private  devo- 
tion the  school  is  often  the  subject  of  his 
^petitions.  He  prays  that  the  children  may 
be  converted,  that  the  teachers  may  with 
humble  faithfulness  do  their  duty,  and  that 
he  may  have  God's  grace  and  guidance  to 
enable  him  to  be  faithful  in  what  he  has  to 
do.  The  spirit  of  prayerful  earnestness  is 
infused  into  all  he  does.  Persevering  energy 
takes  him  and  the  school  safely  through  many 
difficulties   which    might    otherwise   cause   a 


THE    SUCCESSFUL    SUPERINTENDENT.        35 


wreck.  His  school  prospers.  The  neighbor- 
ing schools  and  churches  call  it  a  model 
school,  and  ask  for  instructions  as  to  the  pe- 
culiar system  by  which  it  is  managed.  They 
hardly  believe  when  they  are  told  that  there 
is  no  wonderful  hocus-pocus  about  it,  but 
that  it  is  only  a  school  conducted  with  prayer- 
ful zeal,  order  and  simplicity,  by  a  band  of 
wise  and  faithful  teachers,  under  a  good  super- 
intendent. 


TEACHERS 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Heedless  Teacher. 


S  this  gentleman's  rule  is  to  dismiss  his 


([Vy  business  from  his  mind,  out  of  business 
hours,  so  he  forgets  on  Sunday  night  that 
there  is  such  an  institution  as  the  Sunday 
School,  and  such  a  special  field  of  labor  as 
his  own  class ;  nor  does  he  again  think  of 
either  until  the  following  Sunday  morning  at 
a  quarter  before  eight  o'clock.  At  that  time 
he  is  dreamily  waking  from  his  fourth  morn- 
ing nap,  having  spent  the  time  since  sunrise 
in  a  series  of  sleepings,  wakings,  and  slow 
gymnastics  on  the  bed,  in  the  manner  of  Dr. 
.Watts's  sluggard.     The  "  door  on  its  hinges  " 

87 


38        THE  HEEDLESS  TEACHER. 


shuts  with  a  hang^  when  the  thought  dawns 
on  the  sleepy  man's  brain  that  this  is  the  day 
on  which  he  has  to  go  and  teach  the  Sunday 
School  class.  And  the  time  has  almost  come. 
He  has  an  hour  and  a  quarter  to  dress,  shave, 
find  and  study  the  lesson,  eat  breakfast,  have 
family  prayers,  and  run  to  school.  The  list 
of  duties  is  long,  for  so  short  a  time,  so  he 
pauses  a  while  to  consider  which  he  will  do 
and  which  he  may  leave  undone.  He  con- 
cludes toilet  and  breakfast  to  be  works  of  ne- 
cessity. The  rest  may  take  their  chance. 
Ashe  hastily  attends  to  his  toilet  duties,  he 
remembers  how  many  things  he  has  forgotten 
during  the  week  which  he  really  had  intended 
to  do.  He  was  going  to  visit  those  boys  in 
Crook  alley,  to  look  for  three  or  four  new 
scholars,  to  inquire  into  the  meaning  of  a  hard 
passage  in  last  Sunday's  lesson,  on  which 
some  of  the  boys  had  bothered  him  ;  and  gen- 
erally to  turn  over  a  new  leaf.  But  it  Avas 
too  late  now.  He  will  not  spoil  his  breakfast 
by  doing  them,  or  even  thinking  much  about 


THE  HEEDLESS  TEACHER.        39 

them.  He  will  let  them  go  this  time,  and  try 
to  do  better  next  week. 

Clothes  being  put  on,  and  hot  coffee  swal- 
lowed, the  heedless  man  is  off  to  the  scene  of 
his  labors,  neglecting  much  that  ought  to  be 
done  at  home.  He  goes  rapidly,  but  yet  is 
late.  He  is  so  often  late  that  when  he  comes 
early  the  boys  say  there  is  going  to  be  rain. 
He  comes  in  while  the  hymn  is  being  sung, 
and  instead  of  w^aiting  quietly  by  the  door,  he 
marches  in  (he  has  new  boots)  and  takes  his 
place  in  his  class,  pleasantly  saluting  each  of 
the  boys,  and  telling  them  he  is  glad  to  see 
them.  The  superintendent  ought  to  abate 
this  nuisance  by  locking  the  door. 

Our  teacher  is  entirely  unprepared  in  the 
lesson.  He  knows  where  it  is,  because  he  re- 
members where  last  Sunday's  was,  by  the  boys 
having  stumped  him  on  that  hard  question. 
So  with  triumphant  air  of  knowledge,  he 
makes  believe  that  he  has  studied  it.  He 
turns  promptly  to  the  right  chapter,  and  asks 
the  boys  if  they  know  it.     It  is  hard  to  cheat 


40        THE  HEEDLESS  TEACHEE. 


boys,  though,  and  these  boys,  finding  him 
out,  begin  to  make  fun  of  him  to  each  other. 
Alter  he  has  asked  ail  tlie  questions  in  large 
print,  the  boys  put  several  questions  to  him 
which  he  cannot  answer.  He  is  forced  to  the 
confession  that  on  account  of  the  great  press 
of  business  on  him  —  indeed  this  has  been  the 
busiest  week  of  his  life  —  he  was  not  able  to 
do  his  lesson  that  justice  which  should  have 
been,  done  to  it.  But,  as  he  considers  Bible 
study  a  great  privilege,  he  will  be  certain  to 
be  well  posted  on  the  lesson  for  next  Sunday. 
In  what  he  calls  the  minor  matters  of 
his  class,  this  teacher  is  exceedingly  slack. 
The  class-record  book  he  looks  on  as  very  un- 
necessary ;  and  as  to  putting  down  the  num- 
bers of  library  books  which  the  boys  take 
home,  he  thinks  it  is  useless  trouble.  The 
question  of  the  wisdom  of  trying  to  keep  some 
order  in  the  class  does  occasionally  occur  to 
him,  but  he  cheerfully  dismisses  it,  as  beneath 
the  thought  of  one  who  has  the  great  interests 
of  gospel  teaching  to  attend  to .     If  he  would 


THE    HEEDLESS    TEACHER.  41 


attend  to  the  great  interests,  his  heedlessness 
with  the  little  interests  might  find  some  excuse. 
But  he  does  not  attend  thoroughly  to  anything. 
He  has  no  system,  except  the  system  of  letting 
things  look  after  themselves. 

With  all  his  heedlessness  and  inefficiency, 
he  believes,  in  his  simplicity,  that  he  is  a  first 
rate  teacher.  Go  to  him  with  any  suggestion 
as  to  mending  his  ways,  and  he  says  it  is  a 
very  good  one,  and  that  he  always  does  that 
way  himself.  He  can  expound  by  the  half 
hour  how  things  ought  to  be  done.  In  this 
he  often  talks  empty  nonsense.  But  he  thinks 
it  is  very  wise  talk,  and  mistakes  the  respect- 
ful attention  of  his  wearied  hearers  for  con- 
viction of  the  truth  of  what  he  says. 

It  is  an  open  question  in  the  school  whether 
to  ask  this  teacher  to  stop  teaching,  or  to  try 
to  rectify  him.  Rectification  will  involve 
almost  making  him  over  again  from  the  begin- 
ning, undoing  the  work,  thoughts,  and  habits 
of  many  years'  standing,  while  turning  him 
out  would  be  short  work.     They  do  not  want 


42        THE  HEEDLESS  TEACHER. 


to  hurt  his  feelings.  But  one  good  brother 
goes  kindly  to  him  to  tell  him  of  his  short- 
comings, and  to  try  to  set  him  right.  Mr. 
Heedless  listens  to  him  for  a  moment,  then 
draws  himself  up  with  dignity,  and  tells  the 
brother  that  he  sees  he  is  not  appreciated  at 
that  school,  and  that  there  is  a  better  Sunday 
School  in  the  next  street  anxious  for  his  ser- 
vices. He  will  go  there,  he  believes.  Off  he 
goes,  in  high  dudgeon,  to  the  better  Sunday 
School  in  the  next  street,  where  somebody 
once  complimented  him  to  make  him  stop 
talking  high  sounding  nonsense,  and  where  he 
erroneously  believes  he  is  wanted. 

No  Sunday  School  wants  a  heedless  teacher. 


CHAPTER  YII. 

The  Shallow  Teacher. 

^  HIS  teacher  takes  his  place  in  his  class 
Vi/  in  a  state  of  great  mental  poverty.  He 
is  troubled  to  know  how  he  shall  spin  out  his 
little  stock  in  trade,  so  as  to  make  of  it  a 
sufficient  show  to  persuade  his  scholars  that 
he  is  a  profound  student.  He  has,  in  a  num- 
ber of  instances,  succeeded  in  passing  for 
quite  a  good  Biblical  scholar.  The  longer  he 
keeps  up  the  appearance,  however,  the  great- 
er is  the  effort.  Sometimes  it  almost  crushes 
him  in  the  performance  of  his  duties,  and 
makes  him  very  nervous  and  anxious. 

His  learning  is  made  up  of  a  heavy  dose  of 
Question-book,  and  a  thin  skimming  of  several 
commentaries  which  he  has  at  home.  This  is 
taken  in  very  hurriedly.  He  calls  it  his  pre- 
paration.    It  would  be  wiser  to  call  it  a  lack 


44  THE    SHALLOW   TEACHER. 


of  preparation.  It  is  entirely  unavailable  for 
all  purposes  for  which  Christian  teaching  is 
used,  and  answers  only  for  the  purpose  of 
deceiving  himself  and  trying  to  deceive 
others. 

As  he  enters  the  school,  he  congratulates 
himself  that  the  session  will  not  be  very  long, 
that  the  superintendent  will  consume  part  of 
the  time  in  the  opening  and  closing  exercises, 
and  (he  hopes)  a  speech ;  that  the  librarian 
must  spend  some  of  the  time  in  his  perform- 
ances :  and  that,  after  all^  if  all  the  teachers 
were  thoroughly  examined,  some  might  turn 
out  to  be  as  shallow  as  himself.  When  the  time 
for  teaching  actually  commences,  he  feels  as  if 
the  time  for  his  public  execution  has  arrived. 
Nevertheless,  he  determines  to  be  as  brave  as 
he  can  be,  to  look  wise  and  not  go  beyond 
his  depth.  With  the  air  (as  much  as  possi- 
ble) of  a  theological  professor,  he  begins  to 
make  the  most  of  the  little  stock  of  undigest- 
ed material  which  he  lias  in  store.  He  ex- 
poses in  rapid  succession,  as  nearly  as  he  can 


THE    SHALLOW   TEACHER.  45 


remember  them,  the  views  of  each  commenta- 
tor on  the  passage  in  hand.  Having  a  little 
smattering  of  the  Greek  language,  he  indulges 
the  boys  with  remarks  on  "  the  way  it  is  in 
the  original,^^  his  explorations  of  "  the  origi- 
nal "  being  confined  to  the  words  printed  in 
Greek  characters  in  Scott's  Commentary. 
One  of  the  large  boys,  who  studies  Greek  at 
school,  and  is  of  an  inquiring  turn  of  mind, 
asks  him  a  question  designed  to  bring  forth 
more  light  on  the  precise  meaning  of  a  Greek 
word,  and  finds,  to  the  great  discomfort  of  all 
concerned,  that  teacher's  vaunted  knowledge 
does  not  extend  so  far.  Teacher  is  inwardly 
angry,  but  dared  not  rebuke  the  lad  for  doing 
what  it  was  perfectly  natural  he  should  do. 
He  thinks  he  will  get  ahead  of  all  such  boys 
by  picking  up  a  little  Hebrew,  which  he  can 
certainly  quote  without  fear  of  molestation. 
He  had  better  take  care.  Some  studious 
boy  will  learn  the  crooked  characters  and  fly- 
speck  points,  even  faster  than  he  will,  and 
will  give  him  trouble. 


46         THE  SHALLOVr  TEACHER. 

In  his  manner,  this  teacher  is  somewhat 
pomj)ous  and  externallj^  wise.  He  talks  so 
loud  as  to  be  heard  by  all  the  classes  which 
are  neighbors  to  his  own.  As  he  feels  his 
defects,  he  sees  the  importance  of  passing  for 
a  profound  man  in  the  eyes  of  his  fellow 
teachers.  He  uses  long  words,  sometimes 
rightl}^,  sometimes  very  much  out  of  place. 
He  generally  makes  a  stir  and  fuss  with  his 
teaching,  very  much  like  the  commotion 
made  by  the  last  two  or  three  inches  of  water 
running  out  of  the  bath-tub. 

Thouofh  the  session  is  not  lono^,  he  is  done 
before  it  is  time  to  close  the  school.  He  has 
asked  all  the  questions,  and  given  a  little  un- 
satisfactory information  about  them.  What 
next?  He  does  not  know.  The  boys  are 
glad  to  hear  no  more  from  him,  for  he  has 
not  interested  them.  He  has  nothing  more 
to  say;  no  application  to  make,  no  religious 
remarks  to  ofibr.  He  sits  and  looks  at  the 
boys,  while  the  boys  gape  round  the  room,  or 
annoy  tlie.  next  classes  by  talking  to  each 
other. 


t:he  shallow  teacher.  47 


If  advice  Would  not  bn  thrown  away  on  this 
shallow  person,  he  might  be  told  that  it  is  as 
hard  to  counterfeit  bank-note  engraving  as  to 
work  honestly  for  bank  notes ;  that  the 
amount  of  trouble  and  nervous  energy  ex- 
pended on  the  external  show  of  learning, 
would  be  better  spent  in  actual  study ;  that 
he  would  do  well  to  explore  his  Biblical 
helps,  instead  of  skimming  on  their  surface ; 
and  that  he  ma}^  let  his  little  stock  of  Greek 
and  HebrQw  go  for  the  present,  instead  of 
making  a  paltry  exhibition  of  them,  which  will 
only  disgrace  him.  But  he  is  not  fond  of  ad- 
vice. He  thinks,  in  common  with  most  other 
shallow  people,  that  he  knows  as  much  as 
anybody. 

Keader,  are  you  a  shallow  teacher  ? 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

The  Argumentative  Teacher. 

fN  early  life,  this  teacher  was  a  prominent 
member  of  a  debating  society  in  a  rural 
neighborhood.  He  exercised  his  gifts  largely 
in  the  discussion  of  abstruse  and  incompre- 
hensible subjects,  and  made  a  powerful  im- 
pression on  himself  as  to  his  abilities  in  this 
branch  of  literary  labor.  As  he  advanced  in 
years,  he  became  a  debating  society  himself, 
habitually  presenting  and  answering  argu- 
ments, entertaining  himself,  but  making  him- 
self very  disagreeable  to  people  who  have  not 
such  an  argumentative  turn  of  mind. 

He  is  not  an  ill-natured  man,  yet  those  who 
meet  with  him  judge  that  he  is,  from  his 
fondness  for  opposing  the  views  of  every- 
body else.  He  suggests  subjects  for  what  he 
calls  conversation.    It  is  soon  discovered  that 

48 


THE    ARGUMENTATIVE    TEACHER.  49 


by  conversation  he  means  argumentative  dis- 
cussion. He  introduces  controversy  into  his 
conversation  when  there  is  no  necessity  for  it. 
When  he  takes  his  stand  on  an  idea,  he  thinks 
that  everybody  else  has  wrong  notions  on  the 
subject.  This  would  not  be  so  bad,  but  he 
goes  further.  He  puts  down  every  body 
whose  views  differs  from  his  own,  as  his  mor- 
tal enemy. 

It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  this  teacher 
will  feed  his  little  flock  with  the  pure  *milk 
of  the  Word.  His  teaching  is  an  exercise  in 
semi-religious  polemics.  Instead  of  instruct- 
ing his  scholars,  he  gets  up  arguments  with 
them,  and  calls  it  Biblical  criticism.  Instead 
of  making  the  way  of  salvation  plain  to  them, 
he  suggests  to  them  the  difficulties  which 
cluster  about  some  of  the  knotty  points  of 
Scripture,  telling  them  that  if  they  succeed 
in  clearing  away  these  difficulties,  they  will 
be  first  rate  critics.  He  bothers  their  minds 
about  whether  the  Israelites  were  right  or 
wrong  in  helping  themselves  to  the  portable 


50  THE    ARGUMENTATIVE   TEACHER. 


property  of  the  Egyptians ;  about  where  the 
materials  for  the  Tabernacle  came  from ; 
about  the  size  of  Solomon's  household,  and  the 
style  of  Elijah's  chariot  of  fire.  He  would 
have  them  settle  accurately  the  amount  of 
wine  that  Timothy  was  to  take  with  his  water, 
the  nature  of  the  evil  done  to  Paul  by  Alexan- 
der the  coppersmith,  and  the  exact  number  of 
feet  and  inches  of  the  stature  of  Zaccheus.  All 
these  things  may  be  well  to  know,  and  it  is 
right  to  study  them  ;  they  are  only  side  dishes 
to  the  gospel  feast  with  which  our  youth  must 
be  fed.  But  our  teacher  makes  them  the  sta- 
ple of  his  instruction,  stuffing  the  boys  with 
an  immense  amount  of  controversial  head- 
knowledge,  and  forgetting  much  of  that  which 
is  necessary  to  salvation.  Gospel  simplicity 
is  unknown  to  him.  Whatever  of  doctrine  he 
teaches  must  be  presented  subjectively,  then 
objectively,  then  from  some  particular  stand- 
point. 

At  the  teacher's  meetings,  this  teacher  is  a 
nuisance.     The  fervent  interest  which  he  has 


THE  ARGUMENTATIVE  TEACHER.     51 


in  the  school,  brings  him  out  on  the  stormiest 
evenings.  The  other  teachers  wish  he  would 
stay  at  home,  but  no  rain,  snow,  cold,  or 
other  unpleasant  state  of  weather,  hinders  him. 
He  is  not  always  in  time  for  the  religious  ex- 
ercises of  the  meeting,  but  is  on  hand  when 
the  business  is  brought  up.  He  has  some- 
thing to  say  on  every  subject  that  comes  be- 
fore the  meeting.  And  he  is  apt  to  say  it  in 
such  a  way  as  to  cause  unpleasant  fervor.  The 
views  and  "  brief  remarks  "  which  he  offers, 
the  discussions  and  ventilations  of  different 
opinions  to  which  he  gives  rise,  consume  an 
important  part  of  the  time  of  the  meeting. 
He  is  possessed  of  considerable  information  ; 
sometimes  it  is  right,  sometimes  wrong.  But 
no  matter  what  the  subject  under  discussion, 
whether  of  vital  doctrine  or  of  the  correctness 
of  his  watch,  he  is  always  positive  that  he  is 
right,  incontestible  evidence  to  the  contrary 
notwithstanding . 

In  the  varied  round  of  Sunday  School  du- 
ties,  this  man  sometimes  finds  himself  at  a 


52  THE   ARGIBIENTATIVE   TEACHER. 


Sunday  School  convention.  He  is  most  at 
home  at  the  convention  where  an  obtuse  com- 
mittee has  selected  a  dozen  topics  for  discus- 
sion, of  such  a  nature  in  themselves  as  to  call 
forth  expression  of  great  diversity  of  senti- 
ment, and  so  bunglingly  stated  as  to  befog 
the  minds  of  the  delegates  about  what  they 
mean.  There  let  our  friend  have  full  swing 
for  his  oratorical  and  controversial  powers, 
and  the  whole  convention  may  fancy  itself 
present  at  a  session  of  his  original  rural  debat- 
ing society.  It  is  this  kind  of  man  who  does 
mischief  at  a  convention,  and  brings  dircredit 
on  the  enterprise. 

This  is  not  a  useful  teacher.  He  is  so  much 
a  man  of  argument  that  he  is  not  a  man  of 
prayer.  He  spends  so  much  time  on  polem- 
ics, that  he  has  none  left  in  which  to  speak  to 
his  boys  about  the  value  of  their  souls.  Nor 
will  he  be  useful  until  he  changes  his  ideas 
and  his  habits.  He  must  stop  being  a  de- 
bating society,  and  remember  that  he  is  a 
teacher  of  the  gospel.     Then  he  may  do  some 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

The  Inexperienced  Teacher. 

YOUNG  man  or  young  woman,  not 
very  far  removed  from  boyhood  or  girl- 
hood, fresh  from  the  Bible-class  and  boarding- 
school.  A  young  person  of  excellent  inten- 
tions, but  of  such  limited  experience,  and  of 
such  slender  acquaintance  with  the  things  of 
the  world,  or  of  the  Sunday  School,  that  the 
good  intentions  fail  of  development  into  prac- 
tical usefulness. 

The  inexperienced  teacher  goes  to  his  work 
with  very  little  understanding  of  its  duties  or 
responsibilities.  An  earnest  call  has  been 
made  for  teachers.  All  who  can  teach  are 
invited  to  come  and  fill  up  the  gaps  in  the 
school.  Our  young  friend  thinks  he  can 
teach.  It  looks  easy.  The  older  teachers 
seem  to  get  along  well,  and  he  does  not  see 

53 


54     THE  INEXPERIENCED  TEACHER. 

why  he  should  not  get  along  as  easily  as  they. 
So  he  offers  himself,  and  his  services  are 
thankfully  accepted.  His  mind  is  filled  with 
the  thought  of  great  activity  and  usefulness. 
Off  he  goes  to  his  new  labors,  feeling  that  he 
has  already  done  great  things,  surmounted  ob- 
stacles, and  accomplished  victories.  He  is 
like  the  city-bred  merchant  who  buys  a  hun- 
dred acres  in  the  country,  expecting  at  once 
to  succeed  handsomely  in  farming,  because 
the  previous  owner  of  the  property  always  had 
good  crops.  As  the  citizen  finds  that  he  has 
practically  to  learn  much  that  he  never  knew 
before,  about  seed-time  and  harvest,  shovels 
and  pitchforks,  so  the  teacher  soon  learns  that 
he  is  very  ignorant  about  how  to  do  that  which 
is  before  him.  He  has  even  to  learn  how  to 
use  the  appliances  which  are  to  help  him  in 
his  work.  He  is  in  a  novel  and  embarrassing 
position.  He  asks  the  boys  how  their  old 
teacher  used  to  teach  them.  Although  they 
know  just  how  he  taught,  and  would  like  to 
be  taught  again  in  the  same  way,  they  are 


THE  INEXPERIENCED  TEACHER.      55 

unable  synoptically  to  explain  how  it  was,  and 
the  teacher  fears  that  they  are  stupid,  because 
they  do  not  tell  him.  What  is  he  to  do  with 
such  a  dull  set  of  boys  ?  He  has  formed  no 
plan  for  teaching ;  it  never  occurred  to  him. 
Before  long  the  boys  begin  to  draw  mental 
comparisons  between  him  and  their  former 
teacher,  whom  they  loved  and  esteemed  very 
highly.  They  conclude  that  the  new  teacher 
is  a  booby.  This  diminishes  their  respect  for 
him,  and  increases  the  difficulty  which  he  has 
in  governing  them.  Symptoms  of  disorder 
are  visible  in  the  class,  and,  as  soon  as  the 
neighboring  classes  are  disturbed,  certain  old 
gentlemen  and  ladies,  who  have  taught  in 
Sunday  School  since  they  were  of  his  age, 
look  with  reproving  countenances  at  the  source 
of  the  disorder.  Their  solemn  looks  convey 
the  idea  that  they  mean  to  say  that  the  young 
man  never  should  have  been  brought  into  the 
school,  for  he  knows  nothing  about  teaching 
or  keeping  order.  The  superintendent  fears 
that  he  has  made  an  unfortunate  error  in  ac- 


56     THE  INEXPERIENCED  TEACHER. 


cepting  his  services,  and  the  young  teacher 
himself,  finding  that  teaching  is  not  as  easy  as 
it  looks  to  be,  and  that  he  has  failed  in  the 
attempts  which  he  made  at  the  exercise  of 
authority  among  his  youthful  charge,  heartily 
wishes  himself  out  of  the  scrape.  He  goes 
home  with  a  heavy  heart,  and  is  nervous  when 
he  thinks  of  the  prospect  before  him. 

This  teacher  has  some  talent  for  teachings 
but  his  difficulty  is  that  it  is  yet  undeveloped 
Like  a  raw  recruit  who  goes  into  battle,  and 
fails  to  shoot  any  of  the  enemy,  because  hft 
does  not  know  how  to  handle  his  gun  rightly, 
so  our  raw  teacher  is  ignorant  about  taking 
aim  so  as  to  send  the  shafts  of  gospel  truth 
home  to  the  hearts  of  his  scholars.  His  abili- 
ties must  be  developed  by  the  kind  training  of 
those  in  the  school  who  are  older  than  he  is. 
A  little  unkindness,  or  unnecessary  reproof, 
may  snub  him,  and  nip  his  usefulness  in  the 
bud.  The  stately  Bible-class  teacher  should 
remember  that  forty  years  ago  he  was  just 
Buch  a  young  man,  just  as  inefficient,  just  as 


THE  INEXPEEIENCED  TEACHER.     57 


green,  just  as  inexpert  in  Biblical  criticism. 
The  superintendent  must  bear  in  mind  that  it 
is  his  duty  to  take  hold  of  such  youthful  help- 
ers, and  show  them  how  to  do  their  work. 
If  he  has  not  the  gift  for  such  instruction,  it 
is  a  sign  that  he  should  vacate  the  office  of 
superintendent. 

Especially  in  the  teachers'  meeting  this 
young  teacher  can  pick  up  useful  information. 

The  teachers'  meeting  should  be  held  not 
only  once  a  month,  for  business  or  prayer,  but 
every  week,  for  prayerful  and  diligent  study 
of  the  lesson.  If  the  most  inexperienced  will 
attend  such  a  meeting  regularly,  and  will 
diligently  try  to  profit  by  what  he  hears,  he 
will  become  better  fitted  for  his  duties  than 
if  he  prepares  his  lessons  in  a  corner.  And 
if  the  older  teachers  will  make  it  their  busi- 
ness to  help  the  young  ones  along,  instead  of 
staying  away  from  the  study-meeting  because 
their  learning  is  so  great  that  they  need  no 
more,  they  will  do  much  to  help  on  the  gene- 
ration of  young  teachers  who  must  fill  their 


58     THE  INEXPERIENCED  TEACHER. 

places  when  they  die   or  become  superannu- 
ated. 

God  bless  our  young,  raw,  inexperienced 
teacher  !  Go  on,  young  friend,  and  take  cour- 
age. "  Let  no  man  despise  thy  youth.'* 
'*  Study  to  shew  thyself  approved  unto  God, 
a  workman  that  needeth  not  to  be  ashamed, 
rightly  dividing  the  word  of  truth." 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  Dull  Teacher. 

CEN  years  ago  this  person  took  charge  of 
a  Sunday  School  class,  having  for  his 
capital  a  reasonable  amount  of  Scriptural 
and  general  knowledge,  which  he  had  gained 
in  the  ordinary  walks  of  educational  experi- 
ence. Since  that  time,  his  perceptive  and 
progressive  faculties  have  been  asleep.  He 
has  gained  nothing ;  has  made  no  progress ; 
is  no  better  as  a  teacher  than  he  was  the  day 
he  first  sat  with  his  class. 

Not  only  is  he  no  better  than  when  he  be- 
gan, but  he  is  not  so  good.  As  a  locomotive 
left  standing,  even  under  cover,  for  ten  years, 
will  not  only  fail  to  accomplish  the  amount  of 
travel  expected  of  such  a  machine,  but  will 
become  rusty  and  incapacitated  for  work,  so 
the  dull  teacher  is  found  to  have  rusted  and 

59 


60  THE   DULL   TEACHEK. 

got  somewhat  out  of  gear,  during  the  time  in 
which  he  has  not  been  adding  to  his  stock  of 
knowledge.  The  knowledge  itself  has  be- 
come rust-eaten.  The  well  of  his  learning 
has  been  so  often  and  so  thoroughly  pumped 
dry,  that  there  is  nothing  in  it. 

Hence,  he  is  a  dull  teacher.  Trying  to 
pump  up  something  from  where  there  is 
nothing,  always  was  dull  work.  Standing 
by,  and  looking  or  listening,  while  the  opera- 
tion is  being  performed,  is  duller  work  still. 
He  would  raise  a  crop  of  very  dull  boys,  only 
that  the  superintendent  has  occasionally 
changed   his    scholars. 

Dull  teacher  feels  no  very  lively  interest  in 
his  class.  His  interest  is  not  sufficient  to  stir 
him  to  punctuality.  He  frequently  comes  in 
with  the  air  of  a  laggard,  ten  minutes  after 
the  school  has  begun.  He  takes  his  seat  with 
a  yawn  of  regret,  which  appears  to  be  partly 
for  coming  late,  and  partly  because  he  has  to 
come  at  all.  Yawning  is  contagious,  so  the 
boys  yawn  too.     Another  yawn  or  two,  and 


THE    DULL    TEACHER.  61 


the  lesson  is  commenced.  The  boys  plod 
through  the  reading,  verse  by  verse,  of  the 
chapter.  When  they  mis-call  the  hard  names, 
he  does  not  correct  them.  If  a  boy  misses 
the  right  verse,  and  reads  the  wrong  one,  he 
takes  no  notice  of  it.  The  only  irregularity 
that  attracts  his  attention,  is  when  five  boys  in 
succession  read  the  same  verse,  which  they 
sometimes  do  for  fun.  Then  his  v/rath  rises 
at  them. 

His  method  of  impai-ting  information  is  to 
ask  all  the  questions  in  the  question-book. 
This  is  done  with  not  quite  so  much  interest 
as  is  manifested  by  the  examining  physician 
of  a  life-insurance  company,  when  he  asks 
you  the  list  of  questions  in  reference  to  your 
age,  health,  and  prospects  for  a  long  life. 
The  only  difi*erence  is,  that  the  physician 
seems  to  feel  some  interest,  while  the  dull 
teacher  manifests  none.  Each  question  brings 
an  additional  feeling  of  heaviness  into  the 
class.  The  boys  see  their  teacher's  counte- 
nance as  unmoved  as  if  made  of  putty,  and 


62  THE   DULL   TEACHER. 

feel  that  it  makes  very  little  difference  how 
they  answer.  If  they  know  their  lessons 
well,  no  objection  is  made.  If  they  come 
entirely  unprepared,  teacher  does  not  seem 
to  be  very  sorry.  There  is  a  total  absence  of 
all  stimulus  to  improvement. 

Still,  this  teacher  attempts  something  which 
looks  like  trying  to  interest  the  boys.  After 
the  dull  round  of  questioning  is  over,  there  is 
considerable  time  left.  This  he  occupies  in 
his  way  of  telling  a  story.  His  way  is  to 
select  from  the  "  children's  column  "  of  the 
dullest  religious  paper  he  can  find,  the  very 
heaviest  and  longest  article.  This  he  reads 
to  the  boys.  His  reading  is  as  dull  as  he  is 
himself  The  boys  are  not  interested.  They 
attend  to  everything  else  that  is  going  on  in  the 
school.  He  reads  on,  whether  they  will 
listen  or  not.  That  is  their  own  look  out,  and 
not  his.  Presently  the  superintendent's  bell 
tinkles,  while  he  is  in  the  middle  of  a  sen- 
tence. School  is  to  be  closed.  No  matter 
where  he  breaks  off.      He  is  not  particularly 


THE   DULL   TEACHER.  63 


interested  in  it.  The  boys  not  at  all.  They 
would  just  as  lief  stop  there  as  go  on  to  the 
end.  He  rolls  the  paper  up  and  thrusts  it  in- 
to his  pocket,  and  his  teaching  exercise  is 
over.  He  does  not  consider  whether  or  not 
he  has  accomplished  anything.  The  thought 
of  accomplishing  anything  never  occurred  to 
him. 

Now,  what  is  the  use  of  having  such  a  prosy 
plod  as  this  man  put  to  work  to  teach  chil- 
dren the  way  of  life  ?  Do  you  want  to  have 
your  boy  in  his  class?  No,  nor  would  I  put 
mine  under  his  care.  We  want  the  teacher 
who  is  wide  awake,  whose  interest  prompts 
him  to  continual  acquisitions  of  fresh  infor- 
mation, that  he  may  impart  it  to  his  scholars  ; 
whose  love  for  souls  is  so  great  that  no  sacri- 
fice is  spared  in  doing  his  work ;  whose  de- 
voted energy  manifests  itself  in  cheerful  en- 
deavors for  the  good  of  his  class,  and  of  the 
school ;  whose  eyes  sparkle  with  delight  when 
he  sits  down  to  engage  in  the  performance  of 
his  Sabbath-day  exercises.  To  such  a  teach- 
er we  gladly  and  hopefully  send  our  children. 


64  THE    DULL    TEACHER. 


Good-bye,  Mr.  Dull  Teacher,  Go  away, 
or  turn  over  a  new  leaf.  We  don't  want  you 
in  our  Sunday  School. 


CHAPTER  XL 

The   "Wearisome    Teacher. 

fT  is  tiresome  business  to  be  near  this  man 
while  he  is  giving  instruction  to  his  boys. 
He  is  a  man  of  industrious  and  inexhaustible 
patience.  He  thinks  that  everybody  else 
ought  to  be  as  patient  as  he  is.  He  grieves 
over  the  depravity  of  the  present  generation, 
as  he  notices  the  general  indisposition  to  give 
heed  to  his  prolonged  remarks.  To  sit  in  his 
class  and  be  regularly  taught  by  him,  is  even 
heavier  than  to  be  an  occasional  bystander. 

This  teacher  cannot  be  accused  of  slighting 
his  work.  His  preparation  is  made  at  home 
with  great  research  and  ponderous  labor.  He 
has  all  sorts  of  commentaries  and  other  helps 
into  which  he  explores  deeply.  He  takes  in 
a  large  store  of  knowledge.  If  he  had  a 
mental  hydraulic  press,  by  which  this  could 

65 


66  THE   WEARISOME    TEACHER. 

be  condensed,  he  might  become  a  very  inter- 
esting and  profitable  teacher.  But  he  cannot, 
or  does  not  condense.  He  must  give  his 
hearers  his  stock  of  kiK)wledge  in  undiminish- 
ed volume. 

When  he  takes  his  seat  in  his  class,  he  be- 
gins to  act  the  preacher.  His  boys  are  his 
congregation.  His  chair  becomes  a  pulpit, 
one  of  the  old  fiishioned  kind,  with  toad-stool 
column  underneath,  and  sounding  board  over- 
head. His  teaching  is  sermonic  discourse. 
It  has  heads,  divisions,  sub-divisions,  and  so 
forth.  It  continues  until  a  stop  is  put  to  it 
by  the  closing  of  the  school,  and  would  con- 
tinue longer  if  time  were  allowed  for  it.  His 
arguments  are  good.  His  logic  unexception- 
able. His  applications  tolerably  fair.  He 
sufiers  nothing  to  interrupt  him,  except  dis- 
orderly conduct  on  the  part  of  some  wearied 
boy.  When  this  occurs,  he  digresses,  to  de- 
liver a  lecture  of  fiftoen  minutes  on  the  shame- 
fulness  of  doing  what  the  boy  has  done. 
After  the  first  three  minutes  of  this  exercise 


THE   WEARISOME   TEACHER.  67 


have  passed,  the  boy  forgets  what  the  teacher 
is  talkmg  about.  But  the  teacher,  with  se- 
rious face  and  monotonous  tone  of  voice, 
keeps  on.  He  means  well.  He  has  no  in- 
tention of  doing  otherwise  than  his  duty  de- 
mands. The  effect  of  his  teaching  is  rather 
to  tire  than  to  instruct ;  to  displease  rather 
than  to  interest. 

It  sometimes  happens  that  the  long-winded 
man  is  not  the  deep  student  and  careful  read- 
er that  our  friend  above  mentioned  is.  He 
may  be  an  empty  headed  person.  When  this 
is  the  case,  his  tediousness  is  more  difficult  to 
be  borne  with  than  that  of  the  scholarly  teach- 
er. Mr.  Empty  Head  comes  with  really  noth- 
ing to  say,  but  with  a  great  store  of  words  to 
express  himself  with.  He  turns  on  the  stream 
of  his  volubility,  and  allows  the  vapid  stuff  to 
have  continual  flow,  until  he  brings  up  against 
something  which  quenches  it,  generally  the 
ringing  of  the  bell  for  the  closing  of  r^chool . 
He  seems  to  be  wonderfully  interested  in  what 
he  says.     The  difficulty  is,  that  he  cannot  in- 


68  THE    WEARISOME    TEACHER. 


terest  anybody  else.  He  is  not  disturbed  by 
that,  however.  He  is  too  obtuse  to  see  that 
his  boys  think  him  a  great  bore.  He  says  the 
session  is  too  short.  They  grieve  over  its  too 
great  length.  The  surrounding  teachers  look 
with  astonishment  to  see  how  continuously 
the  man  talks,  all  the  while  saying  not  much. 

When  a  speech  is  to  be  made,  and  nobody 
else  is  on  hand  to  make  it,  Wearisome  is  put 
on  the  stand.  As  these  occasions  seldom 
occur,  he  makes  the  most  of  them.  He  talks 
against  time,  against  patience,  and  often 
against  common  sense.  He  occupies  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  in  saying  what  in  many 
instances  could  be  condensed  into  ten  minutes, 
and  in  many  others  need  not  be  said  at  all. 
It  is  fatio'uino'  work  to  listen  to  his  "  few  re- 
marks." 

Public  prayer  is  sometimes  led  by  him. 
Forgetting  the  beautiful  brevity  of  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  the  petition  of  drowning  Peter,  and 
of  the  thief  on  the  cross,  he  thinks  (if  he 
thinks  at  all)  that  he  will  be  heard  for  his 


THE    WEAEISOME    TEACHER.  69 


much  speaking,  and  keeps  on  for  twenty 
minutes.  The  prayer  gets  to  be  so  much  hke 
a  speech  that  the  hearers  forget  that  it  is 
prayer.     They  grow  very  tired  of  it. 

Lest  I  shouki  fall  into  the  same  error  with 
the  long-winded  man,  and  prolong  this  article 
to  too  great  length,  I  close  with  three  brief 
rules  for  the  tediously  disposed  : 

1.  BE  SHORT. 

2.  BE  POINTED. 

3.  CONDENSE. 

Follow  these,  and  your  weary  boys  will 
freshen  up  like  corn  in  a  pleasa/it  shower, 
after  a  long  drought. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

The  Unconverted  Teacher. 

Y  Friend — I  will  not  write  about  you, 
but  to  you.  Your  position  is  a  strange 
conibination  of  privilege,  responsibility  and 
danger.  You  need  a  message  spoken  in  your 
ear.     Give  prayerful  attention. 

What  are  you  doing?  You  are  teaching 
young  people  the  way  of  everlasting  life. 
You  are  telling  them  that  there  is  a  heaven, 
and  that  there  is  a  hell ;  that  they  must  spend 
eternity  in  the  one  or  the  other.  You  are 
showing  them  how  to  gain  heaven,  and  how 
to  escape  hell.  Your  instructions  are  based 
on  the  Bible,  which  you  thus  accept  as  the 
inspired  revelation  of  God's  will.  Whether 
your  teaching  is  thorough  or  not,  the  fact 
that  you  teach  at  all,  is  evidence  that  you 
know  of  the  existence  of  an  omnipotent  God, 


THE  UNCONVERTED  TEACHER.      71 

of  his  revealed  word,  of  the  future  reward  of 
the  righteous,  and  punishment  of  the  guilty. 
You  know  that  only  by  faith  in  Jesus  Christ 
you  can  be  saved,  for  you  have  often  told  your 
scholars  so. 

Strange  inconsistency  I  You  tell  them  of 
the  way  on  which  you  have  never  set  out. 
You  speak  to  them  of  heaven  and  hell,  when 
you  seem  not  to  care  in  which  your  eternal 
abiding  place  shall  be.  You  teach  them  the 
Bible,  but  its  promises  have  never  yet  been 
found  precious  to  your  soul,  and  its  warnings 
to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come,  have  never 
had  your  attention.  You  tremble,  perhaps, 
as  you  reflect,  (if  you  ever  reflect,)  that  the 
God,  of  whose  omnipotence  you  tell  them,  is 
powerful  to  destroy  you  in  an  instant.  You 
reject  the  only  Saviour,  the  acceptance  of 
whose  free  mercy  you  are  urging  on  your 
children. 

What  is  the  effect  of  this  on  your  scholars  ? 
They  do  not  believe  what  you  tell  them. 
They  have  sense  enough  to  know  that  there 


72      THE  UNCONVERTED  TEACHER. 


is  something  wrong.  Perhaps  they  do  not 
suspect  your  sincerity,  but  they  cannot  under- 
stand,  why,  if  you  warn  them  to  flee  from 
coming  wrath,  you  should  not  yourself  lay 
hold  on  eternal  life.  If  you  were  skating 
with  them,  and  should  point  out  to  thera  a 
certain  jDortion  of  ice  as  too  weak  to  bear 
them,  and  should  then  go  over  the  very  por- 
tion yourself,  they  would  not  believe  there 
was  danger  there.  You  cannot  persuade 
them  that  a  certain  article  of  food  is  un- 
wholesome or  poisonous,  so  long  as  you  eat 
of  it.  They  will  be  apt  to  follow  you,  and  to 
do  the  things  which  you  do,  especially  the 
bad  and  foolish  things.  And  so  long  as  you 
pursue  the  road  to  hell,  it  will  be  difficult  ihv 
you  to  make  them  believe  that  the  road  to 
heaven  is  better  for  them  to  walk  in. 

Are  you  not  in  a  strange  and  contradictory 
position  ?  It  will  not  mend  the  matter  to  say 
that  you  are  teaching  only  for  form's  sake. 
That  would  be  inexcusable  trifling. 

You  are  living  as  the  men  lived  who  work- 


THE  UNCONVERTED  TEACHER.      73 


eel  for  Noah.  As  every  stroke  of  their  work 
on  the  ark  only  added  to  their  knowledge  of 
the  coming  deluge,  and  of  the  necessity  of 
speedy  repentance,  so  each  lesson  you  giv^e, 
adds  to  your  responsibility,  your  knowledge 
of  the  truth,  and  your  sin  in  rejecting  Christ. 
They  did  their  work  well  on  the  vessel  which 
saved  Noah's  household,  and  yet  were  lost. 
You  may  be,  outwardly,  a  good  teacher,  and 
yet,  if  you  will  not  accept  Christ,  you  will 
lose  your  soul.  It  must  have  added  to  the 
misery  which  these  men  felt,  drowning,  while 
Noah  floated  off  in  safety,  to  know  that  they 
had  worked  on  the  ark  which  saved  him,  and 
yet  had  no  interest  in  it,  or  benefit  from  it. 
So,  if  at  the  last  day  you  stand  on  the  left 
side  of  the  Judge,  your  wretchedness  will  only 
be  the  greater,  as  you  remember  that  3^ou 
helped  to  build  up  Christ's  kingdom,  having 
no  part  or  lot  in  the  matter  yourself. 

But  do  not  be  discouraged.  Do  not,  in  vain 
despair,  give  up  your  class,  and  stop  your 
efibrts  to  do  good.    You  may  have  done  some 


74      THE  UXCOXVEPwTED  TEACHER. 


good  already.  God  ma};^  have  taken  the  point- 
less arrows  of  truth,  which  you  have  sent  out 
in  ignorant  unbelief,  and  made  them  sharp 
and  quick  to  the  conversion  of  some  soul. 
The  lessons  you  are  teaching,  will,  if  you  but 
apply  them  to  j^ourself,  do  you  some  good. 
Stop  and  ask  yourself,  "  What  am  I  doing  ?  " 
Trying  to  show  these  children  how  to  be  Chris- 
tians. "  Had  I  not  better  be  a  Christian  my- 
self?" When  you  get  that  far,  stop  again, 
and  ask  God,  for  Christ's  sake,  to  make  you 
a  Christian.  Then  go  to  your  class,  and  see 
with  what  earnest  zeal,  with  what  living  ener- 
gy, you  can  tell  them  how  to  be  Christians. 
"  Whereas  I  was  blind,  now  I  see,"  will  be 
your  glad  testimony  to  them,  as  you  point 
them  to  the  mighty  Saviour  who  can  remove 
the  scales  of  error  and  i2:norance  from  the 
eyes  of  the  sightless  sinner. 

Unconverted  teacher  !  What  are  you  going 
to  do  ?  Do  you  mean  to  keep  on  in  your  dan- 
gerous and  deceptive  position  ?  I  can  hardly 
believe  you  are  a  wilful  hypocrite.     K  you 


THE  UNCONVERTED  TEACHER.      75 


were,  you  probably  would  uot  have  begun  to 
teach.  But  yon  are  thoughtless.  You  don't 
care  whether  you  are  saved  or  not.  Of  course 
your  concern  for  the  salvation  of  your  scholars 
cannot  be  very  deep.  If  you  have  positively 
resolved  that  you  will  always  be  thoughtless 
and  careless  and  impenitent,  out  of  the  school 
with  you,  as  soon  as  possible  ;  for  you  are  in- 
creasing your  own  condemnation,  and  drag- 
ging souls  with  you  down  to  hell.  But  if  you 
intend,  in  God's  strength,  to  live  a  new  life, 
keep  on,  and  God  bless  you  in  the' good  work, 
and  strengthen  you,  that  you  may  win  many 
souls  to  a  knowledge  of  the  truth. 

Unconverted  teacher  !  You  have  lived  un- 
converted long  enough.  Dedicate  yourself 
noiv  to  God's  service.  Not  merely  with  a 
common  resolution,  made  in  your  own  strength, 
and  soon  broken  m  your  own  weakness  ;  but 
a  covenant,  a  consecration,  a  surr(;nder,  a 
giving  away  of  your  whole  powers,  time  and 
talents  to  God.  That  only  will  make  you 
happy  and  useful.     Only  with  such  a  conse- 


76      THE  UXCON VERTED  TEACHEK. 


cration  can  you  hope  to  be  saved,  and  to  save 
others. 

"  Lest  that  by  any  means,  when  I  have 
preached  to  others,  I  myself  should  be  a 
castaway." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

The  Inconstant  Teacher. 

S  a  fine-looking  carriage-horse,  just  doc- 
tored up  to  be  sold,  starts  off  with  great 
speed,  proudly  prancing,  and  with  impatient 
champing  of  the  bit,  so  this  teacher  commenc- 
es his  duties  with  much  outward  demonstration 
which  appears  to  promise  excellent  results. 
As  the  gay  horse,  after  he  has  been  driven  a 
few  miles,  suddenly  becomes  tired,  and  shows 
symptoms  of  a  desire  to  go  no  further,  so, 
when  the  novelty  of  teaching  in  Sunday 
School  has  worn  off,  and  the  fact  is  realized 
that  there  is  actually  some  hard  work  connect- 
ed with  it,  the  unstable  person's  efforts  relax. 
He  wants  to  stop  and  take  breath.  The  good 
intentions  and  resolutions  with  which  he  has 
stimulated  himself  to  action,  have  ceased  their 
working,  and  he  must  stop  till  he  can  get  up 


78  THE   INCONSTANT   TEACHER. 


some  more.  He  is  a  broken- winded  teacher. 
His  intentions  in  beginning  the  work  were 
good.  He  knew  that  he  onght  to  teach  in  the 
Sunday  School,  and  he  felt  that  he  could  do 
it.  His  determination  w^as  that  no  stormy 
weather  should  keep  him  from  his  work,  that 
he  would  alTvays  be  punctual,  and  that  his 
class  duties  should  be  conducted  with  neatness 
and  regularity.  He  resolved  that  he  would 
never  go  unprepared  to  his  class.  To  this 
end  he  spent  a  considerable  amount  of  money 
in  buying  books  and  maps  to  help  him  in  his 
study  of  the  Scriptures.  He  turned  over 
several  new  leaves  in  the  administration  of 
the  afiairs  of  the  class,  each  of  which  he  con- 
sidered to  be  an  improvement  on  the  w^ays  of 
the  previous  teacher.  He  won  the  love  and  af- 
fection of  his  scholars  ;  for  he  gave  them  plenty 
of  reward  tickets,  and  one  evening  invited 
them  to  his  house  to  tea.  He  sang  wdth  all  his 
miglit,^^ 

*'  In  all  my  Lord's  appointed  ways. 
My  jomuiey  I'll  pursue, 
Hinder  me  not,  ye  much  loved  saints. 
For  I  must  go  with  you." 


THE   INCONSTANT   TEACHER.  79 


The  other  teachers  were  pleased  with  his 
earnestness.  They  congratulated  him  on  his 
success,  and  he  congratulated  himself. 

But,  after  the  pleasant  freshness  of  the 
Sunday  School  has  passed,  and  the  congratu- 
latory part  of  the  work  is  over,  it  appears  to 
our  teacher  that  teaching  is  harder  work  than 
he  at  first  thought  it  to  be.  The  labor  of  pre- 
paration is  different  from  the  pleasure  of 
looking  at  new  books  and  arranging  them  on 
the  shelves.  The  trouble  involved  in  regu- 
lar attendance  on  school  is  greater  than  ho 
thought  it  would  be.  His  scholars  do  not  all 
at  once  become  Christians.  Nor  do  they  spend 
the  time  and  care  on  their  lessons  which  he 
thinks  they  ought  to.  Nor  do  they  even  give 
very  thoughtful  attention  to  what  he  tells 
them.  He  is  discouraged.  He  comes  late. 
A  rainy  Sunday  keeps  him  at  home.  What 
is  the  use  in  his  getting  his  feet  wet,  just  for 
those  dull  boys?  A  friend  comes  to  spend 
Sunday  with  him,  and  he  stays  at  home  to  en- 
ertain  him,  or  ffoes  with  him  to  hear  the  flash 


80  THE   INCONSTANT   TEACHER. 


preacher  at  the  other  end  of  the  town. 
It  does  not  occur  to  him  to  provide  a  substi- 
tute for  his  class,  or  even  to  tell  the  superin- 
tendent that  he  will  not  be  there.  The  class 
may  look  out  for  itself.  How  did  it  get  along 
before  he  was  there  !  He  soon  becomes  very 
irregular,  and  presently  stays  away  altogether. 
He  still  says  that  he  loves  the  Sunday  School, 
and  that  his  interest  in  it  is  unabated,  but 
when  asked  to  return  to  his  post,  he  begins 
to  enumer-ate  some  twenty  reasons  why  he 
cannot,  all  of  which  should  be  honestly  con- 
densed into,  "  I  don't  want  to." 

He  is  one  who,  having  put  his  hand  to  the 
plough,  looks  back.  He  is  Lot's  wife,  look- 
ing again  for  the  pleasant  things  of  Sodom. 
The  good  seed  which  was  sown  in  his  heart 
sprang  up  suddenly,  "  because  he  had  no 
deepness  of  earth."  The  sun  scorched  it, 
and,  having  no  root,  it  withered  awa}^  If 
the  superintendent  has  many  such  teachers  in 
his  school,  he  has  to  keep  a  large  reserve 
corps,  an  extra  set  of  hands,  to  supply  their 


THE    INCONSTANT   TEACHER.  81 


lack  of  service  when  they  feel  more  like  stay- 
ing at  home  than  coming  and  doing  their 
work.  Such  a  teacher  is  no  advantage  to  the 
school.  He  puts  his  plough  in  the  furrow, 
and  leaves  it  for  somebody  to  stumble  over. 
He  becomes  a  pillar  of  salt,  not  to  be  used 
for  seasoning,  but  to  be  a  monument  of  in- 
constancy. The  fewer  such  retrospective 
ploughmen  and  Lot's  wives  we  have  in  our 
Sunday  Schools,  the  more  prosperous  we  shall 
be. 

"  Ye  did  run  well ;  who  did  hinder  you  ?  '* 
Inconstant  teacher,  you  hindered  yourself. 
You  "ran  imcertainly,"  and  so  ran  off  the 
track.  You  fought  "  as  one  that  beateth  the 
air,"  and  so  accomplished  no  victory.  Con- 
sider your  ways.  When  you  are  ready  to 
run  with  patience,  as  well  as  with  a  little 
stimulated  zeal,  the  race  that  is  set  before 
you,  "looking  unto  Jesus,  the  author  and 
finisher  of  our  faith,"  and  not  to  the  strength 
of  your  own  resolutions,  come  back  again 
into  the  school,  and  all  hands  will  cheerfully 
welcome  you  to  your  return  to  duty. 


82  THE    Il<fCONSTANT   TEACIIEK. 

The  magnificent  carriage-horse  may  start 
off  finely,  and  travel  gaily  for  a  while  ;  hut  if 
his  first  mile  is  travelled  in  three  minutes,  it  is 
no  proof  that  he  will  go  twenty  miles  in  an 
hour.  For  good,  hard,  steady,  reliable  work, 
give  us  the  solid,  patient  animal  who  works 
in  the  dray,  even  if  he  is  a  little  of  a  plod. 

"Wherefore,  my  beloved  brethren,  be  ye 
steadfast,  unmovable,  always  abounding  in  the 
work  of  the  Lord,  forasmuch  as  ye  know  that 
your  labor  is  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord." 


CHAPTER  XIT. 

The  Disagreeable  Teacher. 

^/^r  HIS  teacher  has  no  positive  hatred  for 
^^  his  scholars,  but  nevertheless  manages 
to  inflict  on  them  a  considerable  amount  of 
discomfort  and  worry.  He  looks  on  them  as 
members  of  an  evil  and  perverse  genera- 
tion, and,  though  the  object  of  his  teaching 
them  is  to  reclaim  them  from  their  evil  and 
perversity,  he  prefers  to  look  on  what  they 
are,  and  what  he  is  sure  they  will  continue  to 
be,  rather  than  on  any  improvement  of  con- 
dition to  which  he  might  lead  them.  He  does 
not  expect  that  they  will  ever  become  good 
boys,  or  smart  scholars.  And  if  any  of  them 
should  happen  to  brighten  up  and  learn 
something,  it  might  cause  him  some  uneasi- 
ness, because  it  would  take  away  that  much 


84  THE   DISAGREEABLE   TEACHER, 

of  reason  for  groaning  and  being  disagreea- 
ble. 

When  he  meets  his  scholars  in  the  class,  a 
large  part  of  the  burden  of  his  discourse  to 
them,  is  of  the  great  interest  he  feels  in  them, 
the  trouble  to  which  he  has  put  himself  to 
come  and  teach  them,  and  the  solicitude  he 
feels,  that  notwithstanding  all  these,  they 
will  turn  out  to  be  good-for-nothing  boys. 
But  he  throws  it  up  to  them  so  often,  and  so 
unpleasantly,  as  to  lead  the  hopeless  good- 
for-nothings  to  doubt  the  great  interest,  and 
to  wish  he  would  spare  himself  the  trouble 
which  he  seems  to  grudge. 

The  time  for  teaching  is  spent  partly  in 
actual  teaching,  but  principally  in  speaking  to 
the  boys  on  the  subject  of  their  various  errors 
and  short-comings.  If  this  were  pleasantly 
and  kindly  done,  a  reasonable  amount  of  it 
would  be  wise  ;  for  the  olSject  of  teaching  is 
to  correct  that  which  is  wrong.  But  he  does 
it  in  such  a  way  as  to  discourage  the  boys, 
and   to   extino'uish   their   ambition   to   mend 


THE    DISAGREEABLE    TEACHER.  85 


their  incorrect  ways.  Instead  of  encouraging 
them,  he  exhibits  their  errors  in  such  a  way 
as  to  make  them  beUeve  they  are  so  far  wrong 
that  there  is  no  use  of  tr3dng  to  do  right.  He 
tells  them  that  he  cannot  understand  how 
they  ever  learned  so  many  bad  things  and 
ugly  ways. 

In  teaching,  his  method  is  peculiar.  It 
seems  to  be  calculated  rather  to  vex  its 
victims  than  to  impart  useful  information  to 
young  learners.  The  idea  of  "  speaking  the 
truth  in  love,"  he  does  not  understand.  He 
puts  the  questions  to  his  scholars  very  much 
as  a  smart  lawyer  questions  a  witness  when 
he  wants  to  confuse  him,  and  make  him  con- 
tradict his  own  testimony.  There  is  a  tone 
of  sarcasm  in  each  question  which  foreshadows 
the  blunder  which  the  lad  will  probably  make 
in  answering,  and  tiie  vindictive  benevolence 
with  which  the  teacher  will  set  him  right.  He 
is  fond  of  sliowing  off  his  great  acuteness,  and 
ability  to  make  corrections.  The  teaching 
is    often   interrupted     with    short    digressive 


86  THE   DISAGREEABLE   TEACHER. 


lectures,  beginning  with  "there  now,  sir,"  or 
"3^011  stupid."  The  boys  are  so  used  to  these, 
that  they  fail  to  give  the  attentive  regard  to 
them  that  they  might,  if  the  lectures  were  any 
novelty.  He  is  roused  by  their  want  of  at- 
tention, to  pronounce  them  rare  instances  of 
brainless  stupidity.  "This  is  the  fifteenth 
time  I  have  told  you  of  this,  sir;  what  do 
you  expect  will  become  of  you  if  you  are  so 
heedless  and  so  wicked  ?  "  Boy  does  not  know 
what  will  V;ecome  of  him,  but  expects  that  it 
will  be  something  very  bad ;  possibly  he  will 
be  hung,  or  his  sentence  commuted  to  impris- 
onment for  thirty  years.  In  which  latter 
event,  he  hopes  that  the  teacher  and  himself 
will  not  be  confined  in  the  same  cell,  lest  they 
should  tire  of  each  other's  company.  The 
boys  do  not  love  their  teacher  very  much. 
One  rude  young  person  goes  so  far  as  to  call 
him  Old  Crusty. 

In  his  intercourse  with  the  other  teachers, 
]Mr.  Disagreeable  is  not  very  pleasant.  lie 
does  not  like  their  wa3's,  and  intimates  that 
he  has  not  much  coutidcuce  in  their  ability 


THE    DISAGREEABLE   TEACHER.  87 


to  teach  or  to  administer  discipline.  He  finds 
fault  with  them,  and  picks  flaws  in  them  in 
various  ways.  He  complains  that  he  is  not 
popular  among  them,  and  wonders  what  can  be 
the  reason. 

When  he  goes  home  he  always  has  some- 
thing  to  say  against  the  superintendent,  whose 
rules  he  does  not  like.  One  day  the  superin- 
tendent locked  the  door  during  the  opening 
exercises,  to  avoid  disturbance  by  late  comers. 
That  very  day  Mr.  Disagreeable  was  behind 
time.  He  rattled  at  the  door,  then  went  off 
and  did  not  show  himself  for  three  Sundays. 

There  is  no  telling  how  much  abuse  the  su- 
perintendent received  at  his  hands  during 
that  time.  Finally  he  swallowed  his  wrath 
and  returned  to  his  class.  He  says  the  super- 
intendent is  a  tyrant,  and  ought  to  be  put 
out.  Would  be  willing  to  serve  as  superin- 
tendent himself,  if  the  teachers  would  only 
elect  him.  But  they  will  probably  not  vote 
for  him. 

This  man  needs  a  little  sweetening.  Then 
he  may  become  a  good  teacher. 


CHAPTEE  XV. 

The  Uneasy  Teacher. 

W  HE  teacher  who  bears  this  title  is  related 
^<J^  to  "  The  Fidgety  Superintendent,"  whom 
he  likes  very  much,  and  in  whose  w^ays  he 
follows.  He  has  a  large  and  prominent  ner- 
vous system,  to  which  he  frequently  alludes, 
and  which  gives  him  and  everybody  about 
him  a  great  deal  of  trouble.  He  has  no  set-. 
tied  rule  of  order,  but  does  his  w^ork  accord- 
ing to  the  notion  w^hich  happens  to  possess 
him.  He  has  a  great  many  notions.  Some 
of  them  are  very  strange. 

Sometimes  he  comes  to  school  early.  He 
spends  the  time  previous  to  the  opening  exer- 
cises in  impetuous  bother.  Instead  of  calmly 
preparing  for  the  work  which  is  before  him, 
he  scolds  one  boy,  praises  another,  and  en- 
gages in  conversation  with  a  third.     Some- 


THE    UNEASY    TEACHER.  89 


times  he  is  late.  Then,  with  the  air  of  one 
whose  breakfast  has  been  poorly  cooked  or 
imperfectly  served,  he  rushes  in  during  the 
time  of  the  opening  prayer.  He  is  so  un- 
mindful of  the  comfort  of  his  fellow-teachers, 
that  he  makes  a  disturbance  as  he  enters  the 
school-room.  It  does  not  occur  to  him  that 
he  could  do  otherwise.  He  says  he  does  the 
best  he  can  in  respect  to  all  the  branches  of 
his  duty.  And  perhaps  he  honestly  thinks  he 
does.  But  other  people  think  he  could  be  im- 
proved upon. 

The  commencement  of  his  labors  is  to  put 
his  class  in  a  stir.  He  begins  to  do  several 
things  at  once.  Finding  the  lesson,  arrang- 
ing the  library  books,  inquiring  after  absent 
scholars,  and  saying  good  morning  to  those 
who  are  present,  making  marks  in  the  roll- 
]3ook,  and  hearing  one  or  two  boys  recite 
verses  which  they  have  learned,  are  heaped 
on  each  other  in  promiscuous  confusion.  The 
affiurs  of  the  day  are  at  once  in  a  taftgle.  He 
has  so  much  to  do.     How  will  he  ever  get 


90       •  THE    UXEASY    TEACHER. 


through  it  ?  Pie  thinks  he  is  a  very  Li])orioiis 
man.  So  he  is,  but  he  spends  more  than  half 
his  labor  for  nothing,  and  so  accomplishes 
much  less  than  he  would  if  he  were  to  ex- 
change his  habits  of  disquietude  for  coolness 
and  tranquillity. 

When  he  is  seated  in  the  class,  and  has 
begun  his  teaching,  suddenly  the  thought  oc- 
curs to  him  that  he  must  confer  with  the  su- 
perintendent, the  librarian,  or  with  some 
other  teacher.  The  topic  on  which  he  seeks 
to  give  or  receive  advice  is  one  of  such  impor- 
tance in  his  mind  that  it  must  be  attended 
to  immediately.  It  would  have  been  well 
had  he  so  ordered  his  afiairs  as  to  avoid  flut- 
tering about  the  room  in  school  time.  But 
he  did  not  think  in  advance.  -Off  he  starts, 
tellinsr  his  scholars  he  will  be  back  in  a  min- 
ute.  Knowing  ho  will  be  gone  for  sometime, 
they  improve  the  opportunity  thus  given  them 
for  disorderly  entertainment.  He  finds  the 
official  to  whom  he  would  talk,  engaged  in 
other  duties,. and  interrupts  him  without  even 


THE    UNEASY   TEACHER.  91 


stopping  to  ask  him  if  he  wants  to  be  inter- 
rupted. The  errand  generally  turns  out  to 
be  a  very  trifling  one.  The  superintendent 
sometimes  has  to  give  him  a  hint  to  go  back 
to  his  place  by  announcing  from  the  desk  that 
he  wishes  the  boys  in  Mr.  Uneasy's  class 
would  stop  making  such  a  noise.  Teacher 
sometimes  returns  at  once  to  his  post  of  duty, 
sometimes  looks  at  the  class,  says  ho  does  not 
think  they  are  making  much  noise,  and  goes 
on  talking.  If  every  teacher  would  thus  in- 
dependently tramp  round  the  room,  the  effect 
on  the  school  would  be  same  as  would  be  the 
effect  on  the  army  of  the  Potomac,  if  all  its 
officers  were  to  spend  their  time  at  the  hotels 
of  Washington,  instead  of  on  duty. 

His  habits  of  thought  and  study  are  so  rest- 
less that  he  never  fixes  his  mind  on  one  sub- 
ject long  enough  to  master  it.  He  takes  some 
trouble  to  prepare  himself  for  his  class,  but 
instead  of  thoroughly  learning  any  one  lesson, 
he  skims  over  a  number  of  things  remotely 
connected   with   what  he   is  going   to   teach 


92  THE    UNEASY   TEACHER. 


about,  aud  so  collects  a  considerable  amount 
of  unfinished  bits  of  preparation.  Instead  of 
the  literary  and  religious  feast  which  he 
should  spread  before  his  pupils,  he  gives  them, 
as  it  were,  an  under-done  lunch,  in  which 
there  is  great  variety,  but  not  much  that  is 
good  or  digestible.  Of  course,  they  receive 
but  slender  nourishment.  He  jumps  at  a  con- 
clusion, on  matters  of  doctrine  or  history, 
instead  of  calmly  making  up  his  mind.  If 
one  opinion  seems  to  him  to  be  wrong,  he  at 
once  precipitates  himself  into  another,  with- 
out pausing  to  examine  into  the  merits  of 
either.  He  is  as  apt  to  be  wrong  as  to  be 
right. 

So  in  matters  of  teaching  and  discipline. 
He  has  his  hobb}^,  his  mania,  his  forte.  Gen- 
erally one  at  a  time,  and  only  for  a  little 
while.  To-day,  punctuality  is  his  great  idea. 
To-morrovr,  it  Yvill  be  loud  singing,  and  he 
may  be  ten  minutes  behind  time.  Soon  he 
makes  a  great  point  of  the  duty  of  'Adping 
your  feet  on  the  door-mat,  as  you  come  into 
school,    and   his  punctuality  and   music   are 


THE   UNEASY  TEACHER.  83 


both  laid  aside.  Sometimes  he  will  teach 
nothing  but  catechism,  sometimes  only  cer- 
tain verses  of  Scripture,  on  which  he  trains 
the  boys  like  so  many  parrots.  But  neither 
one  of  these  continues  to  be  his  hobby  for 
any  great  length  of  time. 

Uneasy  teacher  wants  to  change  his  class. 
He  has  had  it  throe  months.  It  is  the  fifth 
class  he  has  had  in  two  years.  He  thinks 
that  he  and  his  boj/s  are  not  adapted  to  each 
other.  If  he  had  other  boys,  he  thinks  he 
might  do  better  with  them.  The  boys  want 
another  teacher,  too.  They  are  a  little  tired 
of  him,  and  it  is  no  wonder.  Their  weariness 
of  him  is  a  matter  of  encouragement  to  his 
successor.  The  superintendent  indulges  him 
as  he  has  indulged  him  before.  Hoping  that 
this  will  be  the  last  time,  he  gives  him  what 
he  asks  for.  But  his  course  with  the  new 
class  is  the  same  as  before,  fluttering,  fussi- 
ness,  restlessness,  disquietude,  impatience. 
He  needs  thorough  reform  himself.  He  must 
be  changed,  not  his  class.  He  wants  a  new 
"  nervous  system." 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

The   Amiable    Teacher. 

HE  goes  to  her  class  with  a  heart  full  of 
love  for  the  work  that  is  before  her,  and 
of  -warm  interest  in  each  individual  scholar 
whom  she  is  to  teach.  Her  love  is  contagious. 
The  girls  are  glad  she  has  come.  They  con- 
sider it  a  privilege  to  be  allowed  to  be  in  her 
class.  They  do  not  loiter  outside  the  door 
till  the  singing  is  done,  or  make  a  disturbance 
during  the  time  of  prayer.  Her  amiability 
photographs  itself  in  their  pleasant  faces.  No 
matter  how  plain  her  personal  appearance 
may  be,  the  children  think  she  is  the  prettiest 
lady  they  ever  knew.  And  if  she  has  a  beau- 
tiful face,  her  sweet  temper  and  lovely  dispo- 
sition make  it  so  much  the  more  handsome. 
She  is  the  most  popular  teacher,  and  her  clas3 
the  most  popular  class,  in  the  whole  school. 


THE   AMIABLE   TEACHER.  95 

111  the  opening  exercises,  this  lady's  class  is 
a  refreshing  sight.  When  the  Bible  is  read, 
each  girl  has  her  Bible  in  her  hand,  and 
attentively  follows  the  reading.  It  is  because 
the  teacher  sets  the  example.  In  time  of 
prayer,  they  with  her  assume  the  customary 
attitude  of  devotion.  When  the  hymn  is 
sung,  she  succeeds  in  making  them  join  in  it, 
in  which  Mrs.  Sour,  whose  class  is  near  by, 
utterly  fails.  The  reason  of  her  success  in 
this  is,  that  she  not  only  tells  the  children  to 
sing,  but  encourages  them  by  letting  out  the 
full  power  of  her  own  sweetly  tuned  voice. 
She  prefers  this  method  to  that  of  Mrs.  S., 
who  says,  "There,  you,  you  never  sing  at  all; 
I  don't  see  what  has  got  into  you,  that  you 
wont  sing;  don't  you  like  singing?"  Of 
course  they  don't  like  her  kind,  and   never 

will. 

The  amiable  teacher  is  a  jewel  in  the  way 
of  imparting  instruction  fronii  the  Bible.  She 
not  only  knows  her  lesson,  but  makes  her 
scholars   know    it.      The    instruction    is   so 


96  THE   AMIABLE   TEACHEK. 

pleasantly  given  that  it  is  a  matter  of  mutual 
surprise  when  the   hour  of  teaching  closes. 

These  girls  love  the  Bible.  It  is  not  asso- 
ciated (as  in  the  case  of  Mrs.  Sour's  chil- 
dren,) with  cross  looks,  sarcastic  remarks,  or 
calling  them  stupid  and  idle  when  they  will 
not  learn  it.  The*  children  are  led,  not 
driven.  They  are  coaxed,  not  punched. 
They  are  made  to  understand  that  the  Bible 
is  indeed  an  interesting  and  delightful  book, 
and  not  a  dreary  task,  to  learn  which  is 
miserable  punishment. 

She  has  a  happy  knack  of  correcting  what 
is  wrong  in  her  scholars.  She  does  not  hit 
them  on  the  head,  nor  crack  their  knuckles 
with  a  stick,  in  order  to  show  them  the  error 
of  their  ways.  Nor  does  she  worry- them 
with  long-winded  sermons  when  a  few  kind 
and  pointed  words  will  answer  the  purpose 
better.  Here  is  a  very  dull  child  vrhoni  some 
injudicious  teacher  w^ould  exasperate  by  call- 
ing a  "  stupid  little  thing."  True,  she  can- 
not give  the  child  brains,  but  she  has  a  happy 


THE    AMIABLE    TEACHER.  97 


faculty  of  making  the  most  of  what  little 
brains  are  there.  The  consequence  is  that 
tlie  child  is  learning  something.  The  girl, 
who  is  now  number  one  in  the  class,  used  to 
be  rude  and  impudent.  But  rudeness  and 
impudence  hid  themselves  before  the  example 
of  amiability,  and  the  girl  is  now  ambitious 
to  conduct  herself  in  a  Christian  manner. 

Amiable  teacher  visits  her  scholars.  Her 
visits  are  as  when  bright  sunshine  lights  up 
the  house.  Father  and  mother  and  girls  and 
boys  are  all  glad  when  she  comes,  and  sorry 
when  she  goes.  A  word  of  kind  sympathy 
with  the  sick  child  and  of  good  cheer  to  the 
anxious  mother,  a  gentle  rebuke  to  the  father 
for  not  coming  to  church,  a  help  or  two  in 
the  hard  lesson  which  the  boys  are  studying, 
a  little  prayer  in  season.  Her  visit  is  spent 
in  trying  to  do  them  some  good,  rather  than 
in  complimenting  and  flattering  them,  and 
telling  them  how  wise  and  handsome  they  all 
are.  If  she  leaves  a  tract  or  a  little  book,  it 
is  not  thrust  at  them  with  a  "there,  take  that, 


98  THE    AMIABLE   TEACHER. 


you  siuner,"  1)ut  it  is  left  with  such  a  charm- 
ing word  of  persuasion  as  to  make  sure  that 
they  will  both  look  into  it  and  read   it. 

The  other  teachers  hold  this  excellent 
woman  in  very  high  estimation.  Her  kind 
disposition  has  endeared  her  to  them  as  Avell 
as  to  her  scholars.  They  want  to  be  as  suc- 
cessful as  she  is.  If  they  follow  in  her  ways, 
they  will  be  astonished  at  their  success,  and 
at  the  ease  with  which  it  is  accomplished. 
They  will  see  that  it  is  not  only  the  beautiful 
and  delicate  lady  who  can  impart  instruction 
with  gospel  coui-tesy  and  Christian  grace,  but 
that  even  the  great-fisted,  six-feet-high  man, 
with  coarse  voice  and  broad  shoulders,  can, 
if  he  will,  live  a  life  and  do  a  work,  which 
will  be  a  plain  and  practical  sermon  from  the 
text,  "For  my  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden 
is  light." 


CHAPTEE  XYII, 

The  Regularly  Late  Teacher, 


Yjl  HIS  gentleman  may  be  expected  to  make 
^'^^  his  appearance  at  the  door  of  the  Sunday 
School  from  five  to  ten  minutes  after  the  ex- 
ercises have  commenced.  He  bolts  in,  as  if 
he  had  come  on  an  important  errand  which 
must  be  attended  to  in  great  haste.  He 
bounces  into  his  seat,  and  salutes  his  scholars 
who  are  present,  which  adds  to  the  disturb- 
ance he  has  already  made.  He  thinks  it  is  no 
matter  whether  he  comes  late  or  early.  It 
would  put  him  to  some  extra  trouble  to  arrive 
always  in  season.  He  thinks  that  his  work 
does  not  suffer  by  his  tardiness.  He  says  he 
does  the  best  he  can.  If  he  is  rebuked  for  his 
bad  habit,  he  says  that  we  are  all  sinners,  and 
that  he  will  settle  this  matter  with  his  God. 
He  thinks  it  is  very  unreasonable  in  the  super- 


100   THE  REGULAELY  LATE  TEACHER. 

iiitendeut  to  begin  the  very  minute  the  clock 
strikes.  A  few  minutes'  grace  should  be  al- 
lowed for  the  accommodation  of  those  who 
prefer  to  come  late.  It  is  still  more  unrea- 
sonable for  anybody  to  find  fault  with  him,  or 
to  sii^2,est  that  he  misjht  break  himself  of  this 
objec  tionable  habit.  He  cannot  see  why  those 
w^ho  suggest  and  find  fault,  should  not  mind 
their  own  business,  and  let  him  alone.  In  ad- 
dition to  being  regularly  late  at  school,  he  and 
his  family  are  regularly  late  at  church,  to  the 
great  annoyance  of  the  minister  and  congre- 
gation. 

When  he  is  cornered,  in  debate  on  the  sub- 
ject, he  has  an  ingenious  way  of  putting  the 
blame  on  somebody  else.  Sometimes  on  the 
cook ;  sometimes  on  the  rest  of  the  family,  who 
would  stay  in  bed  too  long  ;  sometimes  on  the 
fire,  w^hich  would  not  burn  ;  sometimes  on  the 
baby,  who  cried  three-fourths  of  the  night; 
sometimes  on  the  house-clock,  or  his  own 
watch,  both  of  which  time-pieces  ran  down, 
and  obstinately  refused  to  wind  themselves  up. 


THE  REGULARLY  LATE  TEACHER.    101 


Sometimes  his  boots  were  not  blacked  in  time  ; 
sometimes  an  old  friend  just  retm-ned  from 
China,  selected  that  particular  day  and  hour 
to  call  and  see  him ;  sometimes  he  neglected 
the  preparation  of  his  lesson  till  the  time 
when  he  should  have  been  putting  on  his  hat 
and  coat.  The  ftict  is,  that  he  has  no  good 
excuse,  and  never  had  ;  but  he  persuades  him- 
self, and  tries  to  persuade  other  people,  that, 
by  reason  of  the  various  things  which  he  calls 
excuses,  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  be 
regularly  in  time  at  the  opening  of  the  school. 
Some  fresh  cause  of  tardiness  seems  to  hap- 
pen to  him  every  day,  each  one  about  as 
weak  as  the  one  which  preceded  it. 

If  the  real  reasons  of  this  man's  lateness  were 
to  be  inscribed  upon  his  back,  one  morning 
he  would  be  found  labelled,  "  Didn't  think ; " 
another,  "  Don't  care  ;  "  another,  "  Slept  too 
long;"  and  another,  "Let  his  watch  run 
down."  He  has  not  sufficient  interest  in  Sun- 
day School  or  church  to  take  the  little  amount 
of  forethought  and  trouble  necessary  to  insure 


102   THE  REGULARLY  LATE  TEACHER. 


his  punctuality.  If  he  is  a  bank  cashier  or 
book-keeper,  he  is  at  his  post  in  time,  every 
day  in  the  week.  Why?  He  has  an  idea  (a 
correct  one  too)  that  he  may  be  turned  out  if 
he  is  given  to  tardy  habits  there.  But  he  gets 
no  pay  for  coming  to  Sunday  School  or  church, 
and  he  knows  that  nobody  will  turn  him  out. 
A  railroad  train  is  announced  to  start  at 
nine  o'clock.  At  two  minutes  past  that  hour 
you  arrive  at  the  station, carpet  bag  in  hand. 
You  hear  the  rumble  of  car  wheels  in  the 
distance,  and  see  the  clouds  of  smoke  which 
the  departing  engine  is  sending  from  its  chim- 
ney. The  bystanders  laugh  at  you  when  you 
remark  to  them  that  your  breakfast  was  not 
cooked  in  time,  or  that  you  didn't  think  the 
thing  would  go  so  soon.  They  offer  you  no 
consolation  in  consideration  of  your  having 
missed  your  passage.  The  Sunday  School, 
which  is  not  conducted  with  at  least  the  sys- 
tem of  a  railroad,  is  not  good  for  much.  The 
superintendent  can  no  more  wait,  while  Mr. 
Tardy   eats  his   breakfast,  than  the  railroad 


THE    REGULARLY    LATE    TEACLLER.         103 


conductor  can  stop  lor  him  to  pack  his  trunk. 
On  the  strike  of  the  clock  (and  the  clock  must 
he  right)  the  exercises  begin.  The  door 
should  be  locked  during  the  opening  exercis- 
es, in  order  that  Mr.  Tardy  and  his  relations 
may  have  the  privilege  of  standing  out  in  the 
cold,  instead  of  disturbing  those  who  have 
taken  the  pains  to  come  early.  This  will 
mend  the  bad  habit  as  soon  as  any  other 
course.  Try  it,  superintendent,  if  you  have 
any  regularly  tardy  ones  among  your  teach- 
ers or  scholars,  and  let  us  hear  from  you  as 
to  your  success. 

The  good  superintendent  of  a  good  Sunday 
School  has  no  occasion  for  the  services  of  a 
Mr.  Tardy,  and  politely  declines  them  when 
they  are  offered.  He  knows  that  the  man  who 
cannot  exercise  enough  self-denial  to  come 
regularly  and  punctually  to  school,  will  never 
accomplish  much  in  teaching  children  the  way 
of  life.  Tardy  must  think  beforehand  what 
he  is  going  to  do  ;  must  wind  his  watch  regu- 
larlj^,  and  set  it  correctly ;  must  give  up  his 


104        THE    r.EGULAELY    LATE    TEACHER. 


sloveuly  ways  and  careless  habits,  and  he 
may  then  be  a  very  useful  man.  Until  he  re- 
forms he  is  of  very  little  use,  and  the  little 
good  he  does  is  counterbalanced  by  the  dis- 
turbance he  makes. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

The  Traditional  Teacher, 


fN  the  Sunday  School  where  this  man's 


labors  are  put  forth,  things  are  done  some- 
what differently  from  the  way  in  which  they 
were  done  in  the  school  to  which  he  formerly 
belonged,  and  where  he  was  brought  up.  His 
attachment  for  former  customs  is  so  great  that 
it  seems  to  be  a  prominent  part  of  his  creed. 
He  is  distressed  at  any  introduction  of  what 
he  calls  novelty.  He  thinks  it  is  wrong.  He 
is  as  particular  about  doing  his  work  exactly 
as  he  did  it  twenty-five  years  ago,  as  any 
Chinaman  is  about  wearing  his  garments  after 
the  precise  pattern  of  those  of  his  forefathers. 
When  his  course  is  objected  to,  he  says  that 
he  has  always  got  along  to  his  entire  satisfac- 
tion, in  his  accustomed  ways,  and  that  it  is 
therefore  unnecessary  to  change  them.      He 


106  THE    TRADITIOXAL   TEACHEE. 

decliDes  investigatiDg  to  see  whether  or  not 
his  work  would  have  been  better  done,  had 
he  been  willing  to  improve  by  the  suggestions 
and  discoveries  of  other  people. 

In  whatever  he  does,  therefore,  he  is 
governed  not  so  much  by  the  excellency  of 
his  way  or  belief,  as  by  the  fact  that  he  was 
taught  so  to  do  or  believe  when  he  was 
young.  He  was  taught,  indeed,  many  excel- 
lent things ;  some  not  so  excellent ;  but  he 
believes  that  none  of  them  can  be  improved 
upon  by  any  modern  inventions.  His  very 
religion  itself  is  the  result  of  inheritance 
from  his  parents  and  grandparents,  rather 
than  of  careful  investigation  and  conviction 
for  himself.  It  is  none  the  less  true  on  that 
account,  but  the  force  of  its  truth  on  his  mind 
is  not  such  as  to  enable  him,  in  every  emer- 
gency to  give  a  "  reason  for  the  hope  that  is 
in  him." 

In  boyhood  this  person  received  his  Sunday 
School  education,  sitting  on  a  semi-circular 
bench.     Consequently  he  is   much  disturbed 


THE    TRADITIONAL   TEACHER.  107 


by  the  action  of  the  furniture  committee,  who 
propose  to  introduce  square  forms  into  the 
new  buildino:.  He  is  sure  thoy  will  never 
answer  the  purpose.  Years  ago  the  teachers 
meeting  was  held  on  Tuesday  evening.  Now 
it  is  held  on  Thursday,  that  evening  being 
more  convenient  to  most  of  the  teachers. 
Oui;^iend  never  comes  without  a  sigh  at  the 
departure  from  the  good  old  ways  of  former 
years.  The  librarian  of  former  times  had  a 
musical  gift,  and  used  to  raise  the  tunes. 
The  present  librarian  is  no  musician,  but  the 
superintendent  happens  to  be  able  to  fill  his 
place.  Mr.  Traditional  cannot  see  why  that 
officer  should  bemean  himself  by  doing  what 
the  subordinate  officer  formerly  did.  And 
he  is  further  annoyed  by  the  change  in  the 
selections  of  hymns  and  tunes.  The  hymns 
used  to  be  all  long  or  common  metre,  with 
wofully  plain  tunes  to  match.  These  of  the 
present  day  are  made  up  of  one  long  line 
and  three  short  ones,  followed,  perhaps,  by 
three  long  lines  and  a  short  one.    The  modern 


108  THE    TRADITIOX.VL   TEACHER. 


tunes  seem  to  him  to  be  objectionably  merry 
and  trifling.  (Some  of  them  are,  by  the  way.) 
The  fact  that  the  children  unite  more  vocifer- 
ously than  of  old  in  the  use  of  these  hymns 
and  tunes,  is  to  him  only  an  evidence  of  the 
shockiogly  depraved  sensationalism  of  the 
present  generation. 

In  his  teaching,  it  is  evident  that  his^ock 
of  knowledge  is  exactly  what  was  taught 
him  in  his  youth  by  his  respected  teacher, 
and  by  his  pastor,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bother.  It 
was  all  good  in  its  day,  but  has  since  failed 
to  keep  up  with  the  progress  of  Biblical 
criticism.  His  idea  of  Noah's  ark  is  that  it 
was  like  the  high-peaked,  sharp-nosed  imita- 
tion of  it  which  are  on  sale  in  the  toy  shops. 
It  never  occurred  to  him  to  examine  the  sixth 
chapter  of  Genesis,  to  see  if  the  vessel  could 
possibly  have  been  made  of  any  such  shape 
and  proportions.  Teaching  about  the  psalms, 
he  calls  them  all  the  "Psalms  of  David," 
forgetting,  or  never  having  learned,  that 
some   of  them   were   evidently   written   five 


THE    TRADITIONAL   TEACHER.  109 


liuudrcd  years  after  David  was  dead.  In 
illustrating  the  "  eye  of  the  needle  "  through 
which  the  camel  with  difficulty  passed,  he 
makes  it  the  literal  eye  of  the  literal  needle, 
generally  "  a  fine  cambric  needle,  boj^s,"  in- 
stead of  the  "  needle's  eye  "  in  the  city  wall. 
The  boys  think  that  the  rich  man  would 
indeed  have  a  hard  time  of  it,  getting  to 
heaven.  When  he  tells  about  Paul  at  the  feet 
of  Gamaliel,  the  idea  received  by  the  boys  is 
that  of  a  very  small  and  youthful  Paul  sitting 
on  a  little  stool  before  the  wise  teacher  of 
the  law,  who  sits  on  a  high  and  stately  chair. 
He  omits  in  illustrating  the  parable  of  the 
Good  Samaritan,  to  say  that  the  oil  was 
poured  into  the  sufferer's  wounds,  and  the 
wine  into  his  mouth.  The  boys  get  the  idea 
that  the  wine  with  the  oil  was  poured  into 
the  wounds,  which  would  have  made  the  poor 
fellow  additionally  uncomfortable. 

This  teacher  would  be  a  very  useful  man, 
if  he  would  only  build  upon  his  good  foun- 
dation.      The  foundation  laid  in  youth  and  in 


110  THE    TRADITIONAL    TEACHER. 


by -go  lie  years,  is  good  as  far  as  it  goes.  Bat 
a  cellar  can  never  be  let  for  a  family  tene- 
ment, if  there  is  no  superstructure  to  it.  It 
must  be  built  up,  story  after  story,  till  it  be- 
comes a  house.  Then  it  will  rent.  Our  Tra- 
ditional friend  must  remember  that  with  all 
tlie  objectionable  novelties  of  late  years,  there 
are  many  good  ideas  and  practices  worthy  of 
his  attention. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

The  Excellent  Teacher. 

ANY  sheets  of  paper  would  be  con- 
sumed in  fully  describing  the  charac- 
ter and  habits  of  this  useful  Christian.  Let  it 
suffice  for  the  present  to  take  a  hasty  glance 
at  him.     It  will  be  a  pleasant  task. 

The  place  to  find  him  during  school  hours, 
is  at  his  post  of  duty.  He  loves  his  work  so 
well  that  he  makes  his  arrangements  before- 
hand to  be  regular  and  punctual.  He  does 
not  let  his  watch  run  down,  does  not  lag  in 
bed  two  hours  later  on  Sunday  morning  than 
on  other  days,  nor  does  he  forget  his  prepara- 
tions till  so  late  an  hour  that  he  has  to  run 
with  dangerous  speed  lest  he  should  be  tardy 
at  school. 

It  is  a  pleasure  to  watch  him  while  he  is 
at  work.     No  cross  words,  no  sour  looks,  no 


112    .   THE  EXCELLENT  TEACHER. 


sarcastic  speeches,  mar  the  eiijoymciit  which 
the  scholars  feel  in  receivinar  instructiou  from 
him.  The  youngsters  love  to  be  taught  hy 
him.  Not  because  the  teaching  is  all  sugar- 
plums and  cai\dy,  but  that  with  the  sweets  of 
kind  manner  they  take  in  sound  instructiou 
and  gospel  education.  When  he  asks  them 
questions,  it  is  not  to  chuckle  over  their  ig- 
norance of  the  answers,  or  to  prove  that  they 
are  indolent  dunces,  but  to  draw  out  what 
knoAvledge  they  have,  and  to  pave  the  way 
for  improvement  in  that  in  Avhich  they  are 
deficient.  "Speaking  the  truth  in  love,"  is 
his  motto.  He  gives  them  pure,  sound,  un- 
diluted gospel,  and  gives  it  in  such  a  way  as 
to  make  them  relish  it,  and  hunger  and  thirst 
for  more. 

It  need  not  be  supposed  that  the  kindness 
which  this  teacher  shows  to  his  class,  prevents 
him  from  enforcing  discipline.  He  knows 
that  one  of  the  kindest  acts  he  can  perform 
for  them,  is  to  show  tlicm  what  they  do  wrong, 
and  how  to  do  it  riglitl}'.     Mr.  Spoon,  who 


THE    EXCELLENT    fEACIIER.  113 


tGp.clies  the  class  near  by,  does  not  believe  in 
exercising  discipline  on  children,  for  fear  of 
hurting  their  feelings,  and  making  them  dis- 
like him.  Consequently  his  class  is  generally 
in  an  uproar.  Not  so  with  the  class  of  Mr. 
Excellent.  It  is  a  model  of  decent  behavior ; 
and  the  boys  have  more  respect  and  affection 
for  their  teacher  than  Mr.  Spoon's  boys  will 
ever  feel  for  theirs. 

Excellent  teacher  is  a  man  of  enterprise. 
While  he  has  great  respect  for  our  forefathers 
who  compiled  and  used  the  "  New-England 
Primer,"  he  does  not  believe  that  that  good 
book  should  be  the  principal  staple  of  teach- 
ing to  the  youth  of  the  present  day.  He  loves 
and  respects  the  hymns,  question  books,  re- 
ward tickets,  and  other  helps,  which  were 
used  when  he  was  a  small  boy ;  yet,  in  the 
present  day  of  progress  he  would  no  more 
confine  himself  to  these,  than  he  would  go 
from  Boston  to  Washington  by  stage  instead 
of  in  the  rail-road  cars.  Whatever  is  offered 
in  the  way  of  improvement,  he  examines  ;  ac- 


114  THE    EXCEIJ.FXT    TEACHER. 


ceptiog  it  if  good,  rejecting  it  if  of  the  style 
of  many  of  tiie  catch-penny  things  which  de- 
signing inventors  and  pa])lishers  palm  ofl*  on 
the  unsuspecting,  as  necessary  and  important 
aids  to  their  work. 

When  work  is  to  be  done,  this  teacher  is 
the  man  to  do  it.  lie  does  not  shirk  his  share 
of  labor,  expense,  or  responsibility.  He  docs 
not  consent  to  be  placed  upon  a  committee 
merely  for  the  glory  of  it,  with  the  under- 
standing that  the  other  members  shall  do  the 
Avork,  or  that  they  shall  all  leave  it  undone, 
and  then  report  "progress,"  as  many  commit- 
tees do.  He  looks  on  this  as  a  species  of  dis- 
honesty and  craftiness,  which  is  disgraceful  to 
any  professor  of  religion. 

He  is  courteous  in  his  dealings  with  his 
fellovf -teachers.  He  loves  them,  and  makes 
them  love  him.  More  than  this,  he  supports 
the  authorities  of  the  school,  and  of  the  church. 
You  never  hear  him  groaning  or  muttering 
over  some  regulation  which  he  does  not  like, 
or  at  some  action  of  the  superintendent  which 
he  would  prefer  to  have  otherwise. 


THE  EXCELLENT  TEACHER.      115 

Of  his  habits  of  visiting  the  scholai;s  and 
their  parents,  of  his  methods  of  dealing  with 
cross  and  rebellious  children,  of  his  studious 
preparation  for  his  class  duties,  of  his  neat- 
ness and  order  in  doing  his  work  and  in  keep- 
ing his  books,  a  volume  might  be  written. 
One  other  trait  in  his  character  need  only  be 
mentioned.  "  Behold  he  prayeth."  His  prayer- 
ful spirit  of  devotion  is  the  basis  of  all  his  ex- 
cellence. He  prays,  as  he  labors  for  the  con- 
version of  every  boy  in  his  class.  He  is  sat- 
isfied with  nothing  less  than  this.  Faithful, 
earnest,  intelligent,  arduous  in  his  devotion 
to  his  work,  he  hopes  on,  labors  on,  prays  on, 
encouraged  now  and  then  by  seeing  hopeful 
conversions  ;  discouraged  sometimes  by  their 
absence ;  but  always  trusting  in  the  promise 
of  the  Lord  of  the  harvest,  to  whom  he  looks 
for  continued  and  final  blessings  on  all  his 
labors. 

.  Teacher  !  is  the  standard  high  ?  Climb  up 
to  it.  Do  not  pull  it  down,  that  your  ascent 
may  be  easier.     The  better  the  reward,  the 


116      THE  EXCELLENT  TEACHER. 


more  worthy  of  wiuning.  The  higher  the 
calling,  the  more  glorious  the  excellence  of 
{Attaining  it. 


SCHOLARS. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

The  Mischievous  Scholar. 

^  HE  object  of  orcliuaiy  teaching  is  to 
So^  make  some  improvement  in  the  condi- 
tion of  those  who  are  taught,  and  to  add  to 
their  stock  of  general  information.  The 
object  of  Sunday  School  teaching  is,  in 
addition  to  this,  to  correct  all  evil  ways,  and 
lead  the  pupil  into  the  path  of  everlasting 
life.  In  order  that  we  may  teach  wisely,  it 
is  necessary  that  we  have  a  thorough  under- 
standing of  the  material  we  have  to  work 
upon.  If  the  children  who  come  to  be  taught 
are  perfect  in  all  their  ways,  they  need  no 
teaching,  and  may  be  sent  home  to  be  good 


118  THE   MISCHIEVOUS   SCHOLAR. 


examples  to  the  neigli])oring  children.  If 
they  are  deficient,  ignorant,  or  naughty,  we 
must  try  to  give  them  such  instruction  and 
correction  as  will  conquer  their  faults  and 
overcome  their  ignorance.  But  we  must  not 
deal  with  them  at  random.  The  physician 
who  blindly  administers  half  a  dozen  reme- 
dies of  difierent  kinds,  and  for  different 
diseases,  all  the  while  guessing  to  find  out 
what  is  the  matter  with  the  patient,  is  apt 
to  make  bungling  work  of  it,  and,  if  the 
disease  is  serious,  to  make  a  job  for  the  un- 
dertaker. The  skilful  physician  finds  out,  to 
the  best  of  his  ability,  what  is  the  matter  with 
the  sick  man,  and  then  wisely  administers  the 
proper  remedies. 

It  is  as  much  the  duty  of  teachers  to  study 
the  character  of  their  scholars,  that  they  may 
know  how  to  teach  them,  and  what  to  teach, 
as  it  is  the  doctor's  duty  to  find  out  what  is 
the  matter  with  his  patient  before  committing 
to  paper  the  medico -canine  Latin  which  tells 
the  apothecary  what  nauseous  mixture  to 
bottle  up  for  the  sufferer's  relief. 


THE   MISCHIEVOUS   SCHOLAR.  119 


Let  us,  then,  with  this  view  —  namely,  what 
is  the  matter  with  them,  and  how  shall  we 
treat  them  —  summon  a  few  of  our  scholars 
to  stand  in  a  row  for  their  likenesses.  And 
first,  as  the  lad  is  a  little  uneasy  and  restless, 
let  us  dispose  of 

THE   MISCHIEVOUS    SCHOLAR. 

He  is  not  a  positively  vicious  boy,  yet  his 
desire  for  practical  fun  develops  itself  in 
such  a  way  that  those  who  are  annoyed  by  it 
naturally  think  he  is  very  bad.  He  goes  to 
Sunday  School  principally  for  the  fun  of  it. 
He  has  no  religious  understanding,  and  can 
not  discern  things  in  a  religious  light.  In- 
struction seems  to  be  wasted  on  him.  Some 
of  the  teachers  shake  their  heads  when  his 
name  is  mentioned,  and  say  that  he  is  a  bad 
boy.  Others  say  that  possibly  something 
may  be  made  out  of  the  fellow,  yet.  It  is 
true  that  his  pranks  are  a  great  cause  of  dis- 
turbance to  the  whole  school.  During  prayer 
time,  he   appears  to  be   devoutly  joining  iu 


120  THE    MISCHIEVOUS    SCHOLAR. 


tliG  prayer,  but  is  furtively  amusing  himself 
by  creaking  the  bench  so  as  to  make  a  noise. 
The  superintendent  has  offered  a  reward  for 
the  boy  who  thus  annoys  the  school,  but  no- 
body can  find  out  who  it  is.  Sometimes  he 
waits  outside  during  the  opening  exercises, 
to  make  a  noise  by  stamping  in  just  as  the 
lesson  commences.  He  generally  comes  with 
entire  ignorance  of  where  the  lesson  is,  or 
what  it  is  about,  and  pretends  to  manifest  a 
great  desire  for  information  on  both  these 
points.  The  information  given  him  generally 
appears  to  be  thrown  away.  He  is  not  fond 
of  study. 

He  is  sharp  and  quick,  and  is  sure  to  catch 
his  teacher  in  a  blunder,  if  teacher  makes  any. 
He  considers  this  a  great  triumph  over  the 
teacher,  and  arranges  the  tune  and  manner  of 
his  triumph  so  that  the  rest  of  the  class  th  ill 
know  it.  If  the  teacher  comes  late,  this  boy 
will  crow  over  it  for  a  mouth,  and  come  late 
for  several  Sundays  himself,  that  he  may 
have  the  enjoyment  of  pleading  his  teacher's 


THE   MISCHIEVOUS    SCHOLAR.  12 J 


exiimple.  In  singing,  he  pretends  that  he  does 
not  know  the  tune,  hut  is  trying  to  learn  it, 
and  makes  such  ludicrous  attempts  to  learn, 
that  the  other  boys  laugh,  sometimes  causing 
the  singing  to  break  down,  which  amuses  him 
all  the  more. 

This  boy  is  apt  to  be  a  pest  outside  of  the 
Sunday  School.  He  is  not  content  with  hiding 
the  superintendent's  roll-book,  putting  ill- 
smelling  substances  in  the  stove,  and  such 
other  bits  of  mischief  as  are  confined  to  the 
school,  but  he  aims  higher.  He  gets  into 
church.  He  ties  the  bell-rope  up  so  high 
in  the  steeple  that  the  sexton  cannot  get  it 
down  till  after  church  time.  The  other  day 
he  watched  till  the  sexton  should  go  into  the 
cellar  for  coal,  and  when  in,  turned  the  bolt 
on  him,  and  kept  him  there  till  church  was 
out.  (The  sexton  and  he  are  not  good 
friends.)  Next  Sunday  he  will  probably  tie 
the  handle  of  the  organ  bellows  fiist,  or  per- 
form some  practical  joke  on  the  organist. 

What  is  to  be  done  with  him  ?     "  Turn  him 


122  THE   MISCHIEVOUS    SCHOLAR. 


out ! "  says  old  Mr.  Crusty,  who  forgets  that 
half  a  century  ago  he  was  very  much  such  a 
boy.  "  Give  him  a  good  talking  to,"  says  Mr. 
Dull,  who  would  probably  lecture  the  boy 
forty  minutes,  if  he  would  stand  still  so  long. 
"Bear  with  him,  and  try  him  a  while,"  says 
the  good  superintendent.  True,  he  is  a 
nuisance.  The  school  might  seem  to  be  bet- 
ter without  him.  But  the  energy  and  smart- 
ness which  now  show  themselves  only  in  these 
naughty  doings,  may  be  the  foundation  of  that 
which,  if  properly  guided,  may  be  a  very 
useful  character.  Turn  him  out,  and  he  is 
lost.  Keep  him,  show  him  that  you  love  him, 
and  he  will  gradually  cease  his  pranks.  Tell 
him  distinctly  that  his  mischief  is  all  wrong, 
but  do  not  crush  him.  He  must  be  "  caught 
with  guile."     Have  patience  with  him. 


CHAPTEE    XXI. 

The  Lazy  Scholar. 

fN  the  morning  he  is  a  lag-a-bed.  At  noon 
he  stretches  himself.  In  the  evening  he 
gapes  and  yawns,  and  says  he  is  tired.  Of 
course  he  is  tired.  The  hardest  work  any- 
body can  have,  is  to  have  nothing  to  do.  Our 
young  friend's  difficulty  arises  not  from  hav- 
ing nothing  to  do,  but  from  being  too  lazy  to 
do  anything. 

What  kind  of  a  Sunday  School  boy  does  he 
make?  Poor  enough.  He  comes  sauntering 
into  school  at  about  the  same  rate  of  speed  as 
the  cows  walk,  when  they  are  going  home  to 
be  milked.  Only  that  he  is  not  so  punctual 
as  an  orderly  cow.  He  says  that  he  and  the 
rest  of  the  family  had  so  much  to  do  this 
morning,  that  they  could  not  get  through  it  in 
time.     His  teacher  asks  liim  if  they  could  not 

123 


124  THE   LAZY   SCHOLAR. 


have  accomplished  it  all  in  time  by  getting 
Tip  earlier.  He  is  startled  at  the  novelty  of 
the  idea,  and  thinks  it  might  be  a  good  thing, 
but  says,  like  all  other  lazy  people,  that  he 
does  the  best  he  can.  (What  a  common  ex- 
cuse that  is  for  people  who  are  too  lazy  or  too 
stubborn  to  mend  their  ways  !) 

It  would  be  unreasonable  to  expect  this 
young  person  to  learn  any  lessons.  He  is  so 
hard  at  work,  doing  nothing,  that  he  has  no 
time  to  study  or  think.  He  comes  to  school 
entirely  unprepared.  He  tells  the  teacher  that 
the  lesson  was  so  hard.  Teacher  asks  him  if 
he  looked  to  see  how  hard  it  was,  and  finds 
that  he  did  not.  The  consequence  of  this 
habit  of  neglect  of  study  is,  that  he  knows 
less  about  the  Bible  than  a  decent  Zulu  does. 

As  misery  loves  company,  according  to  the 
old  proverb,  so  ignorance  and  indolence  love 
company.  Lazy  boy  is  not  well  pleased  at  the 
smart,  bright  chap  who  always  knows  his 
lesson,  and  promptly  answers  all  hard  ques- 
tions.    So  he  tries  to  corrupt  the  other  boys, 


THE   LAZr   SCHOLAR.  125 

and  make  them  as  idle  as  he  is  himself.  If 
he  can  put  them  up  to  any  mischief,  or  induce 
them  to  lounge  outside  of  the  school  for  half 
an  hour,  instead  of  coming  in  punctually,  he 
thinks  it  is  so  much  clear  gain ;  so  much  sav- 
ed from  the  cause  of  religious  education. 

He  has  no  habits  of  attention.  He  is  some- 
times civil  and  quiet  while  the  teacher  is 
talking  to  him,  but  he  does  not  heed.  The 
teacher  might  as  well  talk  to  a  horse  as  to 
this  boy.  A  good  dog  would  remember  bet- 
ter than  the  boy  does.  Boy  does  not  thinh. 
Never  was  in  the  habit  of  thinking.  Does  not 
want  to  think.  Does  not  see  the  use  of  giv- 
ing attention.  Cares  not  if  he  is  as  ignorant 
ten  years  hence  as  he  is  to-day.  And  proba- 
bly he  will  know  as  little  then  as  now. 

Is  it  not  a  thankless  work  to  teach  such  a 
boy  ?  And  suppose  you  have  a  whole  ckss  of 
them  ?  Better  have  a  class  of  Newfoundland 
dogs,  or  spaniels.  The  beasts  would  learn 
more  than  the  indolent  boy. 

What  is  he  good  for  ?     How  shall  we  make 


126  THE   LAZY    SCHOLAR. 

him  learn  anything?  He  wants  rod  sing,  push- 
ing, stimulating.  But  how  shall  we  get  into 
him?  He  is  covered  with  indolence  as  with 
a  garment ;  even  as  thick  a  garment  as  the 
allio^ator's  hide.  But  even  alligator  has  some 
weak  spots.  So  this  slow  boy  ma}^  be  acces- 
sible to  some  varieties  of  reward  or  punish- 
ment. Try  him  first  on  the  reward.  Not  to 
reward  him  for  being  idle.  That  would  be 
unprofitable  and  expensive.  Perhaps  he  may 
be  induced  to  do  something  worthy  of  reward, 
or  at  least  of  commendation.  Lead  him  that 
far,  and  it  is  a  great  step  in  his  progress. 
But,  if  no  reward  will  move  him,  apply  a 
stimulant  of  the  hornet's  nest  order  to  him ; 
give  him  a  good  dose  of  it,  and  mahe  him 
move  on.  There  is  hope  for  him,  if  he  is 
properly  treated. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

The  Precocious  Scholar. 

Vi  HIS  young  gentleman  is  twelve  years 
^^  old.  At  five,  he  knew  by  heart  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount,  the  first  chapter  of 
John,  and  the  one  hundred  and  nineteenth 
Psalm  ;  all  without  missing  a  word.  At  sev- 
en, he  did  sums  in  the  rule  of  three,  and  sev- 
eral other  rules.  Now  he  knows  by  rote  the 
whole  book  of  Isaiah,  nearly  all  the  New  Tes- 
tament, and  a  great  many  Psalms ;  also  a 
great  variety  of  addresses,  dialogues,  and 
other  semi-religious  literature.  The  other 
children  look  upon  him  as  a  miracle  of  wis- 
dom. 

He  is  pale,  lantern-jawed,  and  stoop-should- 
ered. His  eyes  have  not  the  cheerful  sparkle 
that  a  boy's  eyes  should  have.  He  does  not 
know  how  to  shout,  to  run,  to  spin  a  top,  to 


128  THE   PRECOCIOUS    SCHOLAR. 


swim,  or  to  row  a  boat.  He  aud  his  parents 
regard  all  suoli  exercises  as  the  portion  of 
rude  and  naughty  boys.  In  school  and  in  so- 
ciety he  conducts  himself  with  great  decorum, 
and  is  always  a  perfect  gentleman  in  his  man- 
ners. He  smiles  pleasantly,  when  there  is 
occasion  to  smile,  but  you  never  hear  his 
voice  ringing  out  in  a  hearty  laugh.  He  sings 
with  gentility,  and  is  master  of  several  very 
difncult  tunes. 

On  anniversary  occasions,  (or,  as  they  are 
generally  called  now,  exhibitions,)  this  boy  is 
exhibited  as  a  premium  article  of  scholarship. 
He  makes  a  speech,  or  rather,  recites  a  piece, 
sometimes  a  solo,  sometimes  .a  diah^gue  with 
one  or  more  boys.  This  exhibition  of  his 
mnemonic  and  oratorical  ability,  gives  great 
pleasure  to  his  relations,  but  others  think  it 
ver}^  ridiculous.  His  parents  think  that  this 
display  of  talent  at  so  early  an  age,  will  cer- 
tainly make  him  a  professor  or  a  judge,  Vv^hen 
he  shall  be  a  man.  The  superintendent  of  the 
Sunday  School  wishes  that  the  parents  would 


THE    PRECOCIOUS    SCHOLAR.  129 


not  crowd  the  boy  forward  on  public  occa- 
sions, and  is  certain  that  their  unwise  forcing 
will  be  the  death  of  him,  long  before  he  is 
big  enough  to  fill  the  chair  of  the  thinnest 
professor. 

The  other  boys  have  but  little  respect  for 
our  precocious  friend.  Well  do  they  know 
that  their  stock  of  knowledge  is  inferior  to 
his ;  but  yet  there  is  something  about  his 
manner  which  repels  rather  than  invites  their 
cordial  good  feeling.  They  have  various 
nick-names  for  him,  some  of  which  imply 
their  disregard  for  his  attainments.  One  of 
them  is  "Old  Stilts."  These  annoy  him  very 
much,  and  he  lets  them  see  it.  Of  course, 
the  more  they  see  he  is  annoyed,  the  more 
they  try  to  vex  him.  The  consequence  is, 
that  they  become  to  a  great  extent,  enemies, 
and  the  line  between  friendship  and  enmity 
seems  to  be  drawn  as  if  between  learning  and 
Ignorance.  He  gradually  acquires  the  idea 
that  he  is  better  and  wiser  than  the  other 
boys,  and  that  they  are  a  company  of  shame- 
less scape-graces. 


130  THE    PRECOCIOUS    SCHOLAR. 


A  word  of  advice  may  be  in  season  to  this 
learned  boy,  his  teacher,  and  the  family  of 
which  he  is  a  member.  The  boy  is  on  the 
road  to  the  sick  bed,  the  insane  asylum,  or  the 
grave. 

Turn  over  a  new  leaf.  Enough  learning 
has  been  pumped  into  the  poor  creature  to 
last  for  several  years  to  come.  He  wants  ex- 
ercise, recreation,  and  fresh  air.  He  wants 
less  brain  work,  and  more  muscle  work. 
Don't  take  all  his  books  away  from  him,  for 
that  will  make  him  very  miserable.  But  take 
all  except  two  or  three.  Take  him  away  from 
school  for  a  while,  and  put  him  on  a  farm.  If 
he  can  be  made  to  work  for  his  living,  so 
much  the  better.  Make  him  rise  early  in  the 
morning,  and  retire  early  in  the  evening,  after 
a  good  day's  work,  and  a  light  supper.  Give 
him  a  good  straw-bed  (the  best  thing  a  human 
being  can  sleep  on,)  and  see  that  the  window 
is  so  fixed  that  plenty  of  fresh  air  comes  into 
the  room.  If  there  is  a  pony  on  the  premises, 
teach  him  how  to  ride  "  bare  back."     Make 


THE  PRECOCIOUS  SCHOLAR.      131 


him  play  as  well  as  work.  Make  him  laugh 
as  well  as  look  solemn.  Soon  "  Old  Stilts  '* 
will  be  like  other  boys  ;  his  cadaverous  cheeks 
will  fatten  and  display  a  little  rosy  healthful- 
ness.  His  step  will  have  a  boyish  vigor  in  it. 
He  will  forget  his  accomplishment  of  a  few 
hard  tunes,  and  go  singing  all  round  the  farm. 
He  will  enjoy  his  life.  Then,  when  you  have 
made  him  something  like  a  boy  should  be, 
start  again.  Give  him  a  moderate  course  of 
books,  combined  with  a  moderate  course  of 
exercise.  But  see  that  the  exercise  does  not 
consist  in  solitary  hours  of  swinging  dumb- 
bells, or  climbing  a  pole  in  the  dark  garret. 
That  is  a  dismal  business.  Make  it  cheerful- 
and  social,  and  it  will  work  the  desired  end. 

What  has  all  this  to  do  with  Sunday  Schools  ? 
Simply  this,  that  if  we  want  to  do  good  to  the 
souls  of  our  children,  we  must  see  that  the 
earthly  tabernacle  in  which  the  soul  lives,  is 
in  such  tenantable  order  that  the  soul  can 
thrive  m  it.  If  professors,  judges,'  and  min- 
isters are  to  be  raised  up  from  our  Sunday 


132      THE  PRECOCIOUS  SCHOLAR. 


Schools,  let  us  take  care  to  raise  up  not  lean- 
fleshed,  cadaverous  prodigies  of  stufied  wis- 
dom, but  men  with  healthy  bodies  and  vigor- 
ous minds,  who  shall  be  a  credit  to  a  nation 
of  freemen,  and  to  the  church  of  Christ. 


CHAPTEK   XXIII. 

The   Rebellious   Scholar. 

T  the  time  of  the  opening  of  school,  he  is 
not  in  his  seat.  The  teacher  experiences 
a  feeling  of  relief  on  account  of  his  absence, 
and  goes  so  far  as  to  hope  that  he  has  taken 
a  notion  into  his  head  to  stay  away ;  for  he 
well  knows  that  if  snch  a  notion  has  taken 
possession  of  the  boy,  nobody  can  make  him 
come  to  school.  So  far  as  the  order  and  com- 
fort of  the  school  are  concerned,  it  would  be 
a  good  thing  if  he  would  not  come  at  all. 
But,  as  Sunday  Schools  are  not  only  for  the 
orderly  and  pious,  but  for  the  unrighteous  and 
disobedient,  we  have  to  put  up  with  him,  and 
throw  open  the  door  for  him  as  well  as  for 
the  good  boys  whom  he  disturbs. 

The  teacher's  feeling  of  relief  at  his  absence 
is    of    short  duration.     During   the    opening 


134  THE   REBELLIOUS    SCHOLAR. 

prayer,  a  smart  banging  is  heard  at  the  door, 
which  gives  notice  of  the  rebellious  disciple's 
wrath  at  being  locked  out.  The  door  being 
opened  in  due  time,  in  he  strides,  pounding 
his  heavy  boots  on  the  floor  in  such  w^a}^  as 
to  announce  to  the  whole  school  that  he  has 
come,  and  is  determined  to  annoy  somebody. 
The  superintendent  requests  him,  as  he  passes 
in  front  of  the  desk,  to  make  less  noise.  He 
pauses  for  a  moment,  and  looks  defiantly  at 
the  head  of  the  school,  making  a  face  at  him, 
as  much  as  to  say,  "  Who  are  you  ?  "  (The 
superintendent  is  an  amiable  man,  or  he  might 
.  thrash  him.)  On  he  pushes,  and  presently 
reaches  his  seat,  into  which  he  descends  with 
the  well-adjusted  violence  of  a  steam-ham- 
mer. He  frowns,  pouts,  and  growls  at  who- 
ever did  him  the  injustice  to  lock  him  out. 
He  begins  to  abuse  his  teacher  for  having  a 
special  grudge  against  him,  and  continues  by 
abusing  the  other  boys  for  various  matters,  on 
which  there  is  a  difference  of  opinion  between 
himself  and  them.     His  obstinate  and  disor- 


THE   REBELLIOUS    SCHOLAR.  135 


derly  conduct  has  made  him  a  public  charac- 
acter  and  a  public  nuisance  in  the  school. 

He  delights  to  make  a  disturbance.  Up- 
setting any  of  the  teacher's  plans  he  consid- 
ers a  feat  worthy  of  any  risk  in  performing. 
Insulting  the  superintendent  afibrds  him  great 
pleasure.  When  a  speech  is  made,  especially 
if  it  is  a  dull  speech,  he  applauds  violently 
with  his  boots,  sometimes  adding  a  shrill 
whistle,  which  he  learnt  from  the  boys  at  the 
theatre.  During  the  singing,  he  likes  to  con- 
fuse the  musicians  by  volunteering  all  sorts 
of  uncouth  noises.  He  is  beyond  quiet  mis- 
chief. He  would  scorn  sly  pranks  on  the 
officers  of  the  school  or  his  fellow-scholars, 
preferring  to  set  the  whole  concern  at  open 
defiance.  He  defies  them  to  make  him  be- 
have himself,  to  convert  him,  or  even  to  teach 
him  anything.  He  is  determined  to  be  trouble- 
some, and  determined  not  to  learn. 

Why  then  does  he  go  to  Sunday  School? 
Can  it  be  a  pleasure  to  him?  The  good 
things  of  the  Sunday  School  are  no  pleasure 


136  THE    REBELLIOUS    SCHOLAR. 


to  him.  He  goes  because  he  cau  misbehave 
as  much  as  he  wants  to.  The  only  thing  he 
enjoys  is  his  victory  over  law  and  order. 

Would  not  the  school  be  better  without 
him  than  with  him?  Yes,  so  far  as  that  is 
concerned,  it  might  be  wise  to  turn  him  out. 
But  the  worse  he  is,  the  more  he  needs  to  go 
to  school.  He  needs  the  teachings  of  the 
gospel.  If  anything  ever  will  subdue  his  re- 
bellious spirit,  it  will  he  the  power  of  the 
gospel  working  upon  him.  It  is  the  interest 
of  the  church  and  the  community  that  he 
should  not  grow  up  as  he  is.  If  he  is  turned 
out  of  Sunday  School,  he  will  probably  make 
a  straight  road  to  the  gallows. 

What,  then,  is  to  be  done  with  him?  Go 
and  have  a  good  talk  with  his  parents,  says 
somebody.  The  difficulty  there  is  that  he  has 
got  ahead  of  his  parents,  and  they  can  do 
nothing  with  him.  They  mourn  over  his 
badness,  but  sadly  shake  their  head«  when  it 
is  suggested  that  they  should  mend  him. 
They  let  him  have  his  o^\'ll  way  when  he  was 


THE   REBELLIOUS    SCHOLAR.  137 


a  little  boy,  (which  was  exactly  what  he 
wanted,  and  now  wants,)  and  now  they 
cannot  make  him  mind  their  way.  They 
thought  they  were  so  kind  to  him.  They  so 
tenderly  spared  his  feelings,  instead  of  giving 
him  a  sound  switching  when  he  was  naughty. 

Tame  him.  That  is  what  must  be  done 
with  him.  "  Tame  him?  "  says  teacher  ;  "  why, 
I  would  rather  try  to  tame  a  bison."  Then  he 
must  have  another  teacher.  He  needs  a  good, 
kind,  firm,  able-bodied  and  able-minded 
teacher,  who  will  love  him,  yet  hold  him 
with  a  strong  hand.  He  must  l)e  tamed  as 
the  great  Rarey  tames  horses.  Show  him  that 
you  love  him,  and  are  working  for  his  good, 
both  of  body  and  soul ;  but  let  him  under- 
stand that  you  have  entire  control  over  him, 
and  that  you  mean  to  exercise  it,  if  necessary. 
As  you  are  taming  him,  put  in  a  little  gospel 
instruction  from  time  to  time,  increasing  in 
amount  as  you  get  him  tamer  and  tamer. 

The  boy  will  be  an  earnest  boy,  and  when 
he  grows  up,  will  be  an  earnest  man.    He  will 


138  THE    REBELLIOUS    SCHOLAR. 


probably  be  a  very  bad  man,  or  else  a  very 
good  man.  A  very  useful  man,  or  a  continual 
nuisance.  But  it  all  depends  on  how  he  is 
treated  now. 

Look  well  to  him,  teacher.  With  prayerful 
patience,  firmness  and  diligence,  he  may  be 
made  a  Christian. 


m 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

The   Careless    Scholar. 

TTER  indifference  to  everything  that  is 
going  on,  is  the  most  prominent  charac- 
ter of  the  young  man  who  stands  before  us. 
He  is  always  satisfied,  and  offers  no  special 
opposition  to  anything,  good  or  bad.  "  Don't 
care,"  is  the  rule  of  his  life,  so  far  as  his  life 
goes  according  to  rule.  But  he  does  not  be- 
lieve in  rules |p.nd  regulations  of  any  kind, 
thinking  them  rather  a  hindrance  than  a  help. 
Of  course  he  is  neither  regular  nor  punctual 
in  his  attendance  at  Sunday  School.  He  does 
not  care  whether  he  is  early  or  late,  whether 
he  is  present  or  absent.  He  considers  it  no 
disgrace  to  be  habitually  late,  and  no  loss  to 
be  absent  for  several  Sundays  at  a  time.  As 
he  does  not  care  whether  he  knows  his  lessons 
or  is  ignorant  of  what  they  are  about,  he  can- 

139 


140       THE  CARELESS  SCHOLAR. 

not  be  expected  to  devote  much  time  to  their 
study.  He  loses  his  question-book,  Bible,  and 
hymn-book,  as  he  has  no  regular  place  to  put 
them  in,  and  thinks  it  Avould  be  too  much 
trouble  to  provide  such  a  place.  He  does  not 
care  whether  the  teacher  is  pleased  with  him 
or  not,  and  so  does  not  put  himself  out  of  the 
way  to  do  what  teacher  requires  of  him.  He 
does  not  value  the  good  esteem  of  the  other 
scholars,  even  of  those  who  are  the  most  stu- 
dious and  orderly.  The  prosperity  or  failure 
of  the  school,  is  a  matter  w^hich  he  does  not 
concern  himself  about,  and  it  never  occurs  to 
him  that  his  good  or  bad  conduct  may  make 
the  school  better  or  worse.  The  fact  that  he 
knows  no  more  about  the  Bible  now  than  he 
did  live  years  ago,  does  not  trouble  him,  for 
he  considers  it  to  be  exclusively  the  duty  of 
the  teachers  and  the  minister  to  understand 
about  that.  He  does  not  see  why  they  should 
bother  him  with  it.  His  duties  to  his  parents 
are  performed  in  a  negligent  wa}^  which  seems 
to  indicate  that  the  parents  have  been   some- 


THE  CARELESS  SCHOLAR.       141 


what  negligent  in  the  use  of  the  rod  to  make 
him  mind  what  was  told  him.  Perhaps  that 
is  the  root  of  much  of  the  diiliciilty. 

His  jiersonal  habits  are  such  as  to  make  it 
hard  to  get  along  with  him.  If  he  has  a  watch, 
he  frequently  neglects  to  wind  it,  and,  when 
he  does  wind  it,  sets  it  by  guess.  If  he  would 
wash  his  hands,  he  neglects  to  scrub  the  dirt 
from  them.  When  he  puts  on  his  garments 
he  does  not  give  that  thoughtfal  attention  to 
strings,  pins  and  buttons,  that  a  careful  and 
tidy  person  does.  He  parts  wdth  his  pocket 
money  in  such  a  slip-shod  manner,  that  he 
never  has  anything  to  put  into  the  missionary 
box.  When  the  box  goes  round,  he  says  he 
didn't  think  about  it.  When  he  sits  down  to 
study  his  Sunday  School  lesson,  which  is  very 
seldom,  he  groans  several  times  over  the  task 
which  is  before  him,  then  concludes  that  he 
■will  postpone  it  till  Saturday  evening,  and 
take  some  exercise  now,  which  he  very  much 
needs.  Of  course  he  finds  something  else  to 
do  on  Saturday  evening,   or  else  he  cannot 


142       THE  CARELESS  SCHOLAR. 

find  his  books.  His  habits  on  Sunday  are  the 
same  as  other  days.  In  a  year  he  has  lost 
half  a  dozen  hymn  books,  and  question  books 
uncounted.  The  books  which  he  has  on  hand 
are  dog-eared,  soiled,  and  broken-backed. 
He  says  that  it  is  not  much  matter  how  the 
books  look,  if  one  only  learns  w^hat  is  inside 
of  them.  (N.  B.  People  who  are  slovenly  in 
keeping  their  books,  seldom  know  a  great 
deal  about  what  is  in  them.) 

This  lad  is  a  very  undesirable  scholar  in 
every  respect.  Instruction  seems  to  be  thrown 
away  on  him.  The  teacher  may  instruct,  ex- 
hort, expound,  argue,  an(?  lend  him  good 
books.  He  will  not  listen  to  what  is  said  to 
him,  and  when  he  takes  books,  it  is  only  to 
soil  or  lose  them,  or  to  return  them  unread. 
In  the  latter  case  he  often  says  they  are  very 
interesting.  He  pretends  to  listen,  and  pre- 
tends to  read,  but  his  mind  is  off  on  a  butter-^ 
fly  buzz,  while  his  outer  man  is  in  a  position 
of  attention.  Ask  him  to-day,  what  you  told 
him  yesterday,  and  he  has  forgotten.    He  say  a 


THE  CAKELESS  SCHOLAR.       143 


the  minister  preached  an  uncommonly  fine 
sermon  last  Sunday,  but  ask  him  what  it  was 
about,  or  where  the  text  was,  and  you  soon 
discover  that  he  knows  nothing  about  it. 
Send  him  on  an  errand,  and  before  he  is  out 
of  sight  he  has  forgotten  the  message  you 
gave  him.  And  the  worst  of  it  is,  that  with 
all  his  absent-minded  thoughtlessness,  he  is 
so  pleasant  and  so  polite,  that  you  do  not  like 
to  box  his  ears,  or  treat  him  exactly  as  you 
would  treat  the  violently  bad  boy.  But  he  is 
really  harder  to  deal  with  than  the  quarrel- 
some and  disorderly. 

The  sum  of  his  arguments  and  excuses  for 
his  various  short-comings,  is  ^^  DidnH  think. ^' 
He  thinks  it  is  enough.  Nobody  else  thinks 
so,  though. 

I  once  heard  an  aged  negro  slave  pray,  after 
sermon,  "Oh,  Lord,  please  to  mind  and  make 
us  remember  to  try  and  not  forget  de  word 
of  de  gospel  what  we  jist  done  listened  to.'* 
If  the  careless  scholar  will  earnestly  pray 
such  a  prayer,  and  follow  it  up,  there  is  hope 
for  him. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

The  Too  Big  Scholar. 

IHE  is  fast  attaiuiiig  the  stature  of  man. 

^  Several  preliminary  liairs  sprout  on  his 
upper  lip.  His  voice  is  no  longer  the  squeak 
of  infancy,  or  the  treble  of  boyhood,  but  is 
changiug  to  a  manly  bass.  He  has  cast  aside 
his  former  round  jackets,  and  arrayed  him- 
self in  a  coat  with  amply  flowiug  skirts  and 
other  indications  of  manhood.  His  head  is 
made  uncomfortable  by  the  presence  of  a 
high -crowned  hat,  and  his  mind  is  disturbed 
by  fear  of  accident  to  the  shining,  silky  sur- 
face of  the  same.  Some  of  the  younger  boys 
have  threatened  to  throw  water  upon  it.  As 
he  is  passing  through  that  very  ticklish 
period  of  life  in  which  his  full  manhood  may 
be   questioned,   he   is   very  particular   about 


THE    TOO   BIG    SCHOLAR.  145 


having  it  understood  that  he  is  no  longer  a 
bo  J,  but  a  77han. 

He  makes  up  his  mind  that  the  surest  way 
of  proving  to  the  world  that  he  is  a  man,  is 
to  hold  no  more  associations  with  boys.  So 
he  seriously  considers  whether  or  not  he  can 
afford  to  go  to  Sunday  School  any  more.  He 
does  not  break  off  at  once,  for  he  has  a 
struggle  with  himself  about  it.  He  used  to 
love  the  school.  He  commenced  in  the  infant 
department.  The  gray-haired  mother  in 
Israel,  who  was  in  the  prime  of  life  when  he 
was  her  three-year  old  scholar,  often  speaks 
of  what  a  good  little  boy  he  used  to  be.  The 
teachers  under  whose  charge  he  was, while  in 
the  larger  school,  feel  kindly  towards  him, 
and  hope  that  he  is  not  going  to  leave.  And 
he  knows  that  he  ought  not  to  finish  his  re- 
ligious education  now.  But  the  young  men 
with  whom  he  keeps  company  sneer  so  much 
at  the  school,  that  they  have  almost  persuaded 
him  never  to  set  foot  within  its  doors  again. 
So  he  comes  sometimes,  and  stays  away  some- 


146  TTIE    TOO    BIO    SCHOLAR. 


times,  feeling  quite  ill  at  ease  about  it,  de- 
vising weak  excuses  for  his  absence,  and 
giving  every  reason  but  the  real  one.  He 
still  retains  a  nominal  connection  with  the 
Bible  class,  of  which  he  has  been  a  member 
for  a  year  or  two.  But  he  and  the  Bible  class 
seem  to  be  of  little  advantage  one  to  the  other. 
He  has  grown  in  bodily  stature,  rather  than  in 
Biblical  knowledge,  during  his  stay  in  it. 

Is  this  young  man  to  be  saved,  or  to  be 
thrown  overboard?  Is  he  worth  keeping,  or 
shall  we  frown  at  him,  and  induce  him  to 
prefer  staying  away  from  school  ? 

We  want  him.  We  cannot  afford  to  lose 
him.  There  is  work  for  him  to  do.  "  He  do 
any  work?"  says  an  unbelieving  teacher. 
The  idea  has  obtained  currency  that  the 
young  man  is  above  work.  He  needs  more 
teaching  than  he  has  had,  and  especially  the 
kind  of  teaching  which  will  show  him  how  to 
work.  The  teacher  who  will  succeed  in 
making  him  learn  anything  more  than  he 
already  knows,  will  succeed  in  a  very  hard 
task.     Such  teachers  are  scarce. 


THE   TOO   BIG    SCHOLAK.  147 

How  and  where  shall  we  teach  him  ? 

How  ?  Gather  all  such  young  persons  into 
a  class  by  themselves,  and  put  them  under  the 
care  of  the  kindest  and  most  judicious  man 
that  can  be  found.  Not  a  long-winded  man, 
who  will  weary  them  with  tedious  preaching ; 
not  a  dismal  man,  who  will  drive  them  away 
with  his  doleful  exhortations  ;  not  an  austere 
man,  who  will  shake  his  head,  and  make  grim 
faces  at  them;  but  a  good,  warm-hearted 
Christian,  a  man  of  tact  and  enterprise.  One 
who  remembers  that  he  was  once  a  young 
man,  passing  through  this  critical  state,  will 
do  better  than  one  of  the  stately  sort,  who 
never  was  young. 

Where?  In  a  room  by  themselves.  The 
neatest,  prettiest  and  most  commodious  room 
'that  can  be  had.  If  there  is  not  one,  build  it 
without  a  week's  delay.  You  cannot  invest 
its  cost  in  a  more  paying  enterpjdse.  Let  it 
be  light  and  cheerful ;  clean,  comfortable  and 
attractive.  A  neat  book-case,  containing  a 
moderate  libraiy,  is  indispensable.     Furnish 


148  THE    TOO    BIG    SCHOLAR. 

the  walls  with  good  maps  and  charts,  T\hich, 
if  the  teacher  understands  using  them,  will 
afford  a  ceaseless  fund  of  proiital)le  instruction. 
In  this  private  room  of  their  own,  they  can 
enjoy  freedom  from  what  is  to  them  the  irk- 
some restraint  imposed  on  little  children. 
They  can  sing  their  own  hymns,  and  that  as 
noisily  as  they  please.  They  can  call  them- 
selves the  men's  class,  if  they  like  the  name. 
They  can  be  saved  from  being  nuisances  to 
the  church  people,  whom  they  would  other- 
wise annoy  by  hanging  around  the  doors, 
gates,  and  curb-stones.  They  can  be  kept 
from  vicious  associates,  who  would  drag  them 
to  ruin.  And  when  they  graduate  from  the 
grown-up  class,  it  will  not  be  to  break  loose 
from  instruction  and  religion,  and  become 
Sabbath  vagabonds,  but  to  re-enter  as  teach- 
ers the  same  rooms  in  which  they  were  for- 
merly little  boys,  and  in  their  turn  to  engage 
in  the  good  work  of  teaching  youthful  sinners 
the  way  of  salvation. 


CHAPTER  XXYI. 
The  Scholar  who  Does  Not  Learn. 

CHE  lad  is  tolerably  regular  in  his  attend- 
ance at  Sunday  School,  and  cannot  be 
complained  of  for  disorderly  or  rebellious 
conduct.  In  many  things  he  is  a  pattern  for 
the  other  scholars.  He  seems  to  learn.  He 
often  knows  his  lesson,  or  at  any  rate  has  a 
sort  of  external  acquaintance  with  it.  On 
special  occasions,  if  a  prize  is  to  be  struggled 
for,  he  stru2:i?les,  and  sometimes  wins.  If  a 
public  examination  or  exhibition  is  to  be  had, 
he  stuffs  himself  with  sufficient  knowledge  to 
stand  very  creditably  in  the  eyes  of  the  spec- 
tators. He  can  commit  by  rote  a  great  many 
verses  of  Scripture,  when  it  is  necessary.  So 
he  acquires  a  reputation  for  scholarly  habits, 
and  thorough  Biblical  education.  In  connec- 
tion with  this,  and  on  account  of  it,  he  as- 


150  THE  SCHOLAR  WHO  DOES  NOT  LEAEN. 


sumes  a  certain  degree  of  superiority  over  the 
boys  who,  not  liaving  been  specially  stufied, 
omitted  to  win  prizes,  to  speak  speeches,  or 
to  recite,  with  parrot-headed  volubility,  pro- 
digious amounts  of  Scripture  verses. 

But,  with  all  the  show  of  learning,  the 
}^oung  man  really  learns  little  or  nothing ; 
frequently  nothing  at  all.  Six  months  after 
he  has  gained  a  prize,  he  has  forgotten  exact- 
ly what  the  prize  was  for,  even  though  it  was 
got  after  much  cramming.  He  cannot  recol- 
lect what  it  was  that  was  crammed  into  him. 
Though  he  may  learn  several  thousand  verses 
of  the  Bible,  his  shallow  memory  has  not 
taken  hold  of  a  single  important  truth  or  doc- 
trine. Though  he  appears  to  give  respectful 
and  even  earnest  attention  to  the  preacher, 
the  preaching  produces  no  more  effect  on  him 
than  rain-water  does  on  the  feathers  of  a 
healthy  goose. 

Look  at  him  when  he  becomes  a  big  boy ; 
almost  a  man.  He  is  going  to  leave  the 
school ;  he  is  too  old  to  be  taught  any  more. 


THE  SCHOLAR  WHO  DOES  NOT  LEARN.  151 


He  has  been  receiving  instruction  since  he 
was  five  years  old.  He  ought  to  know  some- 
thing. Examine  him.  Ask  the  difference 
between  the  Mosaic  dispensation  and  the 
Christian.  "  They  didn't  teach  us  that."  Ask 
some  of  the  particulars  of  Jewish  sacrificial 
rites.  He  knows  no  more  about  them,  than 
he  does  of  the  religious  ordinances  of  the 
Digger  Indians,  nor  does  he  care  for  one  more 
than  for  the  other.  See  what  he  knows  of 
our  Saviour's  life  and  ministry.  It  is  all  a 
blank.  Ask  him  when  Israel  seceded  from 
Judah,  and  how  many  kings  each  nation  had. 
He  never  troubled  himself  about  that  either ; 
didn't  suppose  it  was  important.  The  names 
of  the  Apostles ?  "I  am  not  good  at  remem- 
bering names."  No  ;  he  is  not  good  at  any- 
thing. He  has  neglected  his  privileges  ;  has 
despised  his  opportunities.  He  came  to  the 
feast  when  the  tables  were  spread  with  good 
things,  but  left  them  there  and  went  away 
hungry  and  empty ;  and  he  will  continue  in  a 
condition  of  mental  and  religious  emptiness 


152  THE  SCHOLAR  WHO  DOES  NOT  LEARN. 


all  his  life,  if  he  does  not  change  his  course. 
Although  he  has  beeu  a  regular  and  well  be- 
haved scholar,  his  disregard  of  instruction  has 
been  as  great  as  that  of  the  boy  who  spends 
his  Sundays  in  skating,  swimming,  or  going 
for  chestnuts. 

What  is  the  matter  with  him  ?  Simply  one 
thing.  He  lacks  application.  Instead  of 
studiously  applying  himself  to  what  was  be- 
fore him,  with  a  determination  to  master  it,  he 
has  been  dreamily  napping  away  the  precious 
hours  of  instruction,  only  waking  up  once  in 
a  while  to  stretch  himself  and  stuft*  in  a  little 
show  of  learning.  He  has  supposed  that  the 
machinery  of  the  Sunday  School  would  some- 
how or  other  pound  learning  into  him,  in 
spite  of  his  absent-minded  thoughtlessness 
and  wandering  inattention.  He  expected  to 
wake  up  some  day  and  find  himself  a  well 
instructed  person.  If  he  does  not  wake  up, 
the  probability  is,  that  he  will  be  a  dunce  all 
his  life. 

His   condition  has    all  along   been   one  of 


THE  SCHOLAE  WHO  DOES  NOT  LEARN.  153 


passive  reception.  He  has  received  much. 
He  has  given  nothing.  He  has  had  vast 
heaps  of  instruction  poured  into  him.  He 
has  never  poured  any  of  it  out  on  others.  It 
never  occurred  to  him  that  he  might  make 
use  of  his  learnin2:  as  he  went  alonsr.  It  has 
gone  in  at  his  ears  and  out  at  the  top  of  his 
head.  Had  it  gone  out  by  his  mouth,  some- 
body might  have  been  the  better  for  it ;  some 
younger  brother,  or  sister,  or  an  ignorant 
parent,  perhaps.  But  it  has  all  evaporated ;  it 
has  been  wasted,  as  fine  perfumery  is  wasted 
when  care  is  not  taken  to  cork  the  bottle.  If 
the  bottle  is  well  corked,  and  the  perfumery 
let  out  in  appropriate  quantities,  it  performs 
its  pleasant  mission.  If  it  is  thoughtlessly 
left  open,  or  spilled  on  the  ground,  it  fails  to 
accomplish  that  for  which  it  was  made. 

All  the  instruction  that  can  be  thrust  into  a 
boy  will  do  him  no  good,  except  with  careful 
intellectual  digestion.  As  food,  swallowed 
in  large  chunks  and  in  such  quantities  as  to 
be  impossible  to  digest,  will  ruin  the  physical 


154  THE  SCHOLAE  WHO  DOES  AOT  LEARN. 


constitution,  so  will  undigested  learning  prove 
to  be  only  so  much  trash,    clogging  the  mind, 
and  rendering  it  unfit  for  the  noble  and  holy 
purposes  for  which  the  Creator  designed  it. 
"  Fools  despise  wisdom  and  instruction." 


CHAPTEE  XXVII. 

The  First-Rate  Scholar. 

E  all  love  him.  He  is  popular  in  the 
school,  and  with  all  who  knoM^  him. 
We  love  him  because  he  not  only  says,  like 
the  heedless  child,  that  he  tries  to  do  the  best 
he  can,  but  because  he  really  does  try,  and 
tries  in  such  a  way  as  to  succeed.  He  shows 
that  his  kind  of  trying  means  going  ahead, 
and  doing. 

He  comes  to  school  regularly,  not  looking 
all  the  time  for  weak  excuses  for  staying  at 
home.  His  headaches  and  other  diseases  do 
not  come  on,  as  is  the  case  with  some  of  the 
other  children,  just  in  time  to  keep  him  from 
school.  And  he  so  thoughtfully  arranges  his 
matters  at  home,  that  he  is  in  his  seat  a  few 
minutes  before  the  time  for  the  opening  of 
school.     These  few  minutes  are  spent  in  some 

155 


.156  THE   FIRST-RATE    SCHOLAR. 


quiet  preparation  for  the  duties  which  are 
before  him,  sometimes  the  choice  of  a  library 
book,  sometimes  a  little  refreshment  of  mem- 
ory on  the  lesson  of  the  clay.  He  takes  no 
part  in  the  exercise  which  is  engaged  in  and 
enjoyed  by  some  ill-bred  boys,  of  tossing  caps 
and  books  at  each  other,  till  the  teachers 
come. 

There  is  no  mistaking  what  he  has  come 
for.  Not  ta  yawn,  to  idle,  to  disturb  the 
school,  or  to  chat  with  his  friends.  But  to 
learn.  He  knows  no  other  good  reason  for 
coming  to  Sunday  School.  While  he  is  in 
school,  he  makes  the  most  of  his  time.  He 
feels  that  he  cannot  ailbrd  to  lose  a  moment, 
or  an  opportunity  of  picking  up  the  smallest 
piece  of  information.  He  does  not  look  on 
the  work  of  gaining  knowledge  as  a  disagree- 
able task,  nor  does  he  think  he  is  doing  a 
smart  thing  in  cheating  the  teacher  out  of  a 
recitation.  With  attentive  ears  and  open 
heart,  he  takes  in  the  good  word  of  instruc- 
tion, trying  to  remember  all  that  he  is  told. 


THE   FIEST-RATE   SCHOLAR.  157 

It  is,  consequently,  a  pleasure  to  teach  him. 
Entirely  different  from  the  heavy  work  of 
teaching  the  dull,  stupid  creature  whose 
thoughts  are  in  the  streets  or  fields,  while  his 
absent-minded  body  is  pretending  to  give 
heed  to  what  is  being  spoken. 

The  First-Rate  Scholar  makes  some  use  of 
his  learning  as  he  goes  along.  He  reflects 
that  both  his  teacher  and  himself  have  spent 
time  and  labor  on  it ;  the  one  in  preparing 
and  teaching  it ;  the  other  in  receiving  and 
storing  it  away.  So,  instead  of  throwing  it 
away,  or  bottling  it  up  for  old  age  or  posteri- 
ty, he  increases  its  usefulness  by  imparting 
some  of  it  to  others.  He  likes  to  tell  his  sis- 
ters and  brothers  what  he  knows.  He  has  in- 
troduced a  great  deal  of  Bible  knowledge  into 
the  family,  has  taught  Johnny  Stupid  his 
letters,  and  is  teaching  Bets}^  Dull  how  to  read. 
He  finds  that  all  this  helps  him,  and  makes 
him  enjoy  better  what  he  learns. 

He  uses  his  Bible  well.  He  keeps  a  little 
Bible  in  his  pocket,  and  pulls  it  out  in  church 


158  THE    FIRST-RATE    SCHOLAR. 

and  in  Sunday  School,  when  the  Bible  is  read 
or  referred  to.  Consequently  he  knows,  (as 
John  Lag-a-bed  in  the  next  class  does  not 
know,)  exactly  where  to  turn  when  a  chapter 
and  verse  are  mentioned.  He  does  not  look 
in  the  New  Testament  for  the  Minor  Prophets, 
nor  in  the  Old  for  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews. 
He  has  not  only  acquainted  himself  with  the 
localities  of  chapters  and  verses,  but  the  saving 
truths  which  these  chapters  and  verses  teach, 
have  made  a  deep  impression  on  his  heart. 

When  he  grows  up,  he  will  make  a  good 
teacher.  He  is  not  of  the  sort  of  boys  who 
wander  away  from  school  as  soon  as  they 
think  they  are  almost  men.  He  loves  the 
school  and  its  work  so  well  that  as  soon  as  he 
is  old  enough  to  teach,  he  will  take  hold  of  the 
work,  and  do  for  other  youngsters  what  has 
been  done  for  him  during  his  youth. 

Oh  !  for  more  like  him  !  Teacher,  you  can 
have  them  if  you  want  them.  Good  teachers 
will  make  good  scholars.  Not  that  every  re- 
bellious,  stupid,   indifferent  child  can  be   at 


THE  FIEST-EATE   SCHOLAR.  159 


once  turned  into  a  model  of  diligence  in  learn- 
ing, and  excellence  in  deportment ;  but  that 
patient,  kind,  judicious,  prayerful  labor  with 
even  the  hardest  and  dullest,  will  improve 
them,  and  lead  them  on  from  carelessness  and 
ignorance  to  something  of  an  approach  to  what 
they  ought  to  be. 

Teacher !  up  with  the  standard  of  teach- 
ing !  It  is  not  high  enough.  Let  us  not  be 
satisfied  with  merely  going  to  our  classes  and 
sitting  there,  year  after  year,  accomplishing 
nothing.  Let  us  not  be  satisfied  with  the  fact 
that  the  children  are  willing  to  come  and  drone 
through  a  certain  amount  of  dull  exercises, 
flavored  with  a  few  thunder  and  lightning 
hymns  to  relieve  the  monotony  of  it.  But 
let  us  work  for  a  higher  degree  of  excellence 
in  every  branch  of  Sunday  School  attainment, 
and  above  all,  labor  for  nothing  short  of  the 
conversion  to  God  of  every  child  placed  under 
our  care. 


SPEAKERS 


CHAPTEK  XXVni. 

Sunday  School  Speech-Making. 

Y\T  HE  business  of  making  speeches  to  Sun- 
^£jJ  clay  School  children,  has  risen  in  magni- 
tude within  the  last  few  years,  till  it  is  now 
one  of  the  prominent  adjuncts  of  juvenile  re- 
ligious education.  Twenty  years  ago  it  was 
comparatively  a  rare  thing  to  hear  an  address 
in  Sunday  School.  The  idea  of  showing  polite- 
ness to  a  visitor  by  inviting  him  to  inflict  a 
talk  on  the  school,  without  regard  to  his  abil- 
ity to  interest  the  children,  never  then  occur- 
ed  to  superintendents.  Once  in  a  long  while, 
a  missionary,  just  returned  from  the  end  of 
the  world,  or  some  other  place,  would  oiFer 


160 


SUNDAY   SCHOOL   SPEECH-MAKING.        161 


an  account  of  what  he  had  done  and  seen. 
Occasionally  the  agent  of  some  "  cause  "  would 
have  a  brief  hearing.  But  the  institution  of 
speech-making,  as  it  now  exists  in  our  Sun- 
day Schools,  was  then  almost  unknown.  It 
has  gradually  risen,  and  worked  its  way  up 
to  such  a  degree  of  respectability  and  promi- 
nence, that  children  have  learned  to  look  for 
a  speech  from  somebody,  good,  bad,  or  indif- 
ferent, as  a  matter  of  course ;  just  as  butter 
is  expected  with  bread,  or  sugar  with  tea  and 
coffee.  It  is  especially  within  the  last  five  or 
six  years,  that  this  business  has  increased  and 
multiplied  on  our  schools. 

Making  a  speech  to  a  company  of  Sunday 
School  children,  is  productive  of  good  or  evil, 
according  to  whether  the  speech  is  good  or 
bad.  A  stirring,  earnest  speech,  on  the  sub- 
ject of  their  lesson,  or  on  some  subject  con- 
nected with  it,  may  wisely  be  thrown  in,  at 
almost  any  session.  A  speech  which  is  on 
no  subject  at  all,  or  on  something  which  calls 
the  youthful  thoughts  away  from  what  they 


162        SUNDAY    SCHOOL    SrEECH-MAKING. 


have  been  studying,  is  a  nuisance  which  ought 
to  be  abated.  A  wise  man  may  rise  at  an 
appropriate  time,  and  offer  some  remarks 
which  may  be  productive  of  good  ;  some  stu- 
pid or  silly  orator  follows  him,  and  the  chil- 
dren forget  all  that  the  good  man  told  them. 
Or,  when  the  children  have  finished  the  ap- 
pointed time  for  study,  and  are  ready  to  go 
home,  some  tedious  speech-maker  mounts  the 
platform,  and  lets  his  thoughts  loose  for  the 
space  of  half  an  hour.  The  thought  of  inter- 
esting his  hearers,  has  not  occurred  to  him. 
All  he  cares  for  is  that  he  may  have  a  hear- 
ins:.  All  that  his  wearied  hearers  care  for  is 
that  he  may  get  done  as  soon  as  possible,  and 
let  them  go  home.  Of  course  such  a  speech 
is  nothing  but  a  nuisance. 

The  principal  object  of  speech-making,  is 
supposed  to  be  to  do  the  children  some  good, 
and  so  to  glorify  God.  But  the  hearers  of 
one  hundred  Sunday  School  speeches,  might 
well  wonder  if  ninety  of  them  were  delivered 
with  any  object  in  view ;  or,  if  the  speakers 


SUNDAY    SCHOOL    SPEECH-MAKING.        163 


had  any  object,  what  it  was.  One  speaker 
may  utter  a  deUghtfiil  string  of  talk,  made  up 
of  stories  and  illustrations.  It  interests  the 
children,  and,  at  first  thought,  would  seem  to 
be  a  useful  address  ;  but  when  you  try  to  di- 
gest it,  the  stories  seem  to  be  without  point, 
and  the  illustrations  not  brought  in  for  the 
sake  of  illustrating  anything  in  particular. 
Another  speaker  spends  his  time  in  saying 
things  to  make  the  children  laugh.  He  suc- 
ceeds in  that,  for  children  are  easily  amused, 
and  will  sometimes  laugh  if  the  speaker  only 
makes  a  funny  face  at  them.  It  would  not  ])e 
a  great  calamity  if  some  able-bodied  Chris- 
tian should  take  hold  of  the  man  who  speaks 
only  for  the  sake  of  buffoonery,  and  violently 
put  him  out.  It  would,  at  least,  save  a  repe- 
tition of  the  foolishness,  by  the  same  man,  on 
the  same  set  of  children. 

Verily  our  poor  children  are  imposed  upon 
with  a  great  variety  of  this  kind  of  entertain- 
ment. For  every  really  excellent  speech  that 
is  made,  it  is  safe  to  say  there  are  ten  which 


164        SUNDAY   SCHOOL   SPEECH-MAKING. 


fail  to  iccomplish  any  good.  The  amount  of 
profitable  instruction  conveyed  in  the  majority 
even  of  delightful  speeches,  is  exceedingly 
slender.  It  is  astonishing  to  see  how  much 
chalf  we  give  the  little  people,  in  order  that 
they  may  have  a  gTain  or  two  of  wheat.  We 
torture  them  by  making  them  listen  to  all 
sorts  of  people  who  have  not  the  gift  of  in- 
structing or  entertaining  them.  The  long- 
winded  man,  whose  stream  of  volubility  flows 
like  so  much  carburetted  hydrogen ;  the  an- 
ecdote man,  with  his  hungry  and  pointless 
stories ;  the  illustrative  man,  who  uses  a 
great  many  illustrations  to  illustrate  nothing ; 
the  man  of  one  pet  idea,  who  continuously 
ventilates  that  idea  alike  before  old  age  and 
youth ;  the  man  who  has  only  one  speech, 
which  he  uses  on  all  occasions ;  the  dull  man, 
who  puts  us  to  sleep ;  the  stupid  man,  to 
whose  di  ^course  we  cannot  by  any  possibility 
give  attention  ;  the  disagreeable  man,  to  whom 
we  do  not  want  to  attend  ;  the  tiresome  man, 
to  whom  we  listen  only  in  the  hope  that  he 


SUNDAY   SCHOOL   SPEECH-MAKING.        165 


will  soon  be  done ;  the  gloomy  man,  who 
renders  religion  as  terrible  as  possil^le  to  the 
children ;  all  these  men  find  their  way  into 
onr  Sunday  Schools,  wdth  a  degree  of  enter- 
prise and  pertinacity  which  would  be  com- 
mendable if  their  labors  were  well  and  wisely 
put  forth.  It  requires  great  firmness  in  the 
superintendent  to  avoid  having  all  these  people 
inflict  themselves  on  the  school,  and  some- 
body's feelings  are  hurt  when  he  neglects  or 
refuses  to  invite  one  who  is  known  to  be  an 
unprofitable  orator,  who  has  come  expecting 
to  have  his  say. 

Let  us  have  a  speech-meeting.  In  the  chapr 
ters  which  follow,  we  will  listen  to  some  of 
the  Sabbath  School  orators,  who  endeavor  to 
communicate  4heir  ideas  to  the  youth  of  our 
land. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

The   Pompous  Speaker. 

^]%yiTH  self-satisfied  strut,  graceful  flour- 


ish of  pocket  handkerchief,  and  loud 
blast  from  his  nostrils  upon  the  same,  this 
gentleman  takes  his  position  upon  the  platform. 
It  is  Sabbath  afternoon.  A  monthly  appoint- 
ment for  laying  aside  the  regular  lesson  of 
the  day,  and  hearing  speeches  about  mis- 
sionary matters.  The  gentleman  has  come 
for  the  purpose  of  being  one  of  the  speakers. 
He  looks  round  with  patronizing  air  on  the 
company  whom  he  is  to  address,  clears  his 
throat,  says  "h'm,"  several  times,  and  pro- 
ceeds : 

"  My  dear  young  friends  :  Let  me  observe, 
as  a  preliminary,  that  I  must  have  perfect  si- 
lence while  I  address  you.  You  must  bestow 
on  me  your  undivided  attention,  and  not  be 


THE    POMPOUS    SPEAKER.  16^ 

guilty  of  disorderly  conduct  or  confusion. 
If  you  interrupt  me  while  I  am  addressing 
you,  or  signify  by  your  inattentive  deportment 
that  you  do  not  appreciate  my  remarks,  I 
shall  be  obliged,  though  reluctantly,  to  bring 
my  address  to  a  conclusion." 

He  has  by  this  time  succeeded  in  getting 
their  eyes  and  mouths  pretty  well  open,  from 
curiosity  as  to  what  is  coming  next.  He 
continues : 

"  My  dear  children  :  I  am  very  glad  to  see 
you  all  here  this  afternoon.  I  have  from  my 
earliest  childhood  experienced  a  deep  solici- 
tude for  the  welfare  of  the  young  and  rising 
generation.  The  sight  of  a  little  child, 
awakens  in  my  heart  a  warm  interest  for  the 
whole  family  of  infantile  humanity.  I  see 
them  with  the  world  before  them ;  with  its 
hopes  and  fears,  its  dangers  and  its  troubles, 
all  unknown  to  them.  I  gaze  upon,  their  fu- 
ture, but  0,  what  a  gaze !  My  youthful 
hearers,  the  Sunday  School  is  infufsed  with  a 
spirit  of  profound  conviction  in  certain  fun- 


168       THE  POMPOUS  SPEAKER. 

damental  truths.  The  Sunday  School  looks 
to  the  indoctrination  of  the  youthful  heart  in 
all  the  divine  attributes.  It  contemplates  the 
entire  sanctification  of  every  child  of  Adam  " — 
Here  the  superintendent  ought  to  step  up 
to  the  man  and  tell  him  that  the  children  do 
not  understand  a  word  of  what  he  is  telling 
them  ;  but  he  is  a  little  afraid  of  hurting  the 
stately  person's  feelings,  and  so  suffers  him 
to  plunge  on.  He  proceeds,  and  after  talking 
a  great  deal  about  himself,  a  little  about  the 
Sunday  School,  Adam's  fall,  and  several  other 
things,  presently  gets  into  the  thick  of  his 
speech.  He  is  more  pompous  than  at  first. 
His  flourish  of  speech  and  flourish  of  pocket 
handkerchief,  are  both  on  the  increase.  He 
uses  words  of  great  length,  and  very  hard  to 
be  understood.  The  most  of  his  hearers  do 
not  understand  the  speech  at  all.  And  it 
would  be  no  loss,  except  the  loss  of  time  con- 
sumed in  uttering  it,  if  nobody  understood  it. 
It  is  inflated  fustian.  It  is  ornamental  dull- 
ness.    It  is  heavy  frothiness.     It  is  not  on 


THE    POMPOUS    SPEAKER.  169 


any  subject  in  particular.  The  great  man  was 
announced  to  speak  on  something  connected 
with  the  object  for  which  the  meeting  was 
held ;  but  he  cannot  lower  himself  to  that. 
He  understands  that  several  other  persons  are 
to  speak,  and  he  will  let  them  attend  to  that 
part. 

At  last,  long  after  the  proper  time,  he  brings 
his  remarks  to  their  promised  close.  Those  of 
his  hearers  who  are  still  awake,  have  been 
looking  forward  to  this  moment  with  pleasur- 
able expectation.  The  sleepers  care  not 
how  long  he  keeps  on.  He  has  settled  them. 
He  wipes  his  massive  brow,  parades  down 
from  the  platform,  takes  his  seat  on  an  honor- 
able chair,  and  looks  round  on  the  exhausted 
victims  of  his  address,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  Wasn't  that  a  magnificent  speech  ?  " 

Truly  magnificent.  "  The  pomps  and 
vanity  of  this  wicked  world,  and  all  the 
sinful  lusts  of  the  flesh."  Very  fine  stufi"  to 
blow  the  trumpet  with,  but  very  poor  fare 
for  hungry  and  starving  young  souls. 


170  THE    POMPOUS    SPEAKEK. 


There  are  some  men  who  do  this  pompous 
sort  of  talking  for  the  sake  of  making  a  dis- 
play, but  there  are  others  who  do  it  because 
they  do  not  know  better.  They  have  heard 
a  great  orator  or  two,  and  think  they  ought 
to  speak  as  the  great  orator  speaks.  Mr. 
Stuff,  when  addressing  a  Sunday  School, 
thinks  he  is  Daniel  Webster  addressing  the 
Senate,  and  puts  on  airs  accordingly.  He 
comes  as  near  his  model  as  a  poodle  dog 
comes  to  his  when  he  attempts  to  growl  like  a 
lion. 

If  the  pompous  man  ever  does  any  good 
with  his  gift  of  speaking,  it  will  be  after  he 
shall  have  laid  aside  all  the  feathers,  gold 
lace  and  brass  buttons  of  his  style.  He  must 
speak  with  more  simplicity,  and  must  be  sure 
that  what  he  utters  is  sound  sense,  instead  of 
a  long  string  of  empty  nothings,  covered  up 
with  great  swelling  words  of  bombatjtic 
pedantry. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

The  Long-Winded  Speaker. 

CHIS  man's  discourse  is  sometliiiig  like 
the  movements  of  a  very  slow  steamboat. 
The  starting  of  the  boat  gives  the  passengers 
some  intimation  that  it  will  eventually  come 
to  its  journey's  end.  But  there  is  no  telling 
how  much  time  may  be  wearily  consumed  on 
the  passage.  The  hearers  of  the  tiresome 
orator  believe  that  the  end  of  his  speech  will 
positively  come  at  some  time,  even  though  it 
be  after  a  nap,  or  that  unsatisfactory  mixture 
of  sleeping  and  waking  which  every  hearer 
of  heavy  discourses  fully  understands.  The 
steamboat  passengers  have  an  advantage  over 
the  hearers  of  the  weary  address ;  they  can 
talk,  eat,  or  read  books,  to  while  away  the 
tedium  of  the  slowly  passing  time.  The 
hearers  must  either   listen  or  sleep,  for  po- 


172  THE   LONG-WINDED   SPEAKER. 

liteness  forbids  other  ways  of  passing  the 
time. 

As  the  very  slow  steamboat  makes  a  slow 
business  of  getting  started,  so  does  the  weari- 
some speaker.  It  is  not  rapid  work  for  him 
to  get  up  steam.  The  fire  under  his  boiler 
is  not  made  in  time,  or  the  wood  is  green,  or 
there  is  not  enough  of  it,  or  it  is  not  judi- 
ciously arranged  in  the  furnace.  It  sputters 
and  cracks,  and  halts  and  heaves.  His  en- 
gine starts  with  a  confusing  jerk.  He  mum- 
bles his  words  and  munches  his  sentences. 
He  does  not  get  well  oiled  until  the  full  head 
of  steam  is  on,  and  then  the  oil  and  steam 
seem  to  keep  together  so  closely  that  the 
hearers  can  scarcely  discern  the  one  from  the 
other. 

Two  ministers  were  going  together  to  a 
preaching  place  in  the  country.  As  they  rode 
along,  A  said  to  B,  "I  suppose  you  don't 
preach  very  long ;  we  think  about  half  an 
hour  long  enough."  Said  B,  "  Half  an  hour  ! 
why,   it  takes  me  that  long  to  get  started." 


THE    LONG-WINDED    SPEAKER.  173 

Then,  said  A,  "  If  it  takes  you  that  long,  you 
had  better  begin  now,  and  you  will  be  in  good 
speaking  order  when  we  get  there."  There  is 
a  moral  in  this  for  the  lengthy  speaker.  Get 
up  steam  before  you  begin  to  speak,  and  so 
save  much  of  the  time  of  your  hearers.  We 
have  no  more  right  to  take  their  time  in 
"getting  underway,"  than  we  have  to  finish 
dressing  ourselves  in  the  presence  of  the 
guests  whom  we  have  invited  to  take  tea 
with  us. 

The  speaker  is  in  motion.  Then  what? 
Now  the  difficulty  is  to  stop  him.  It  seems 
as  if  the  fountain  of  his  speech  were  inexhaus- 
tible. He  has  opened  its  flood-gates  —  who 
shall  close  them?  He  plods  on  with  great 
industry,  rolling  out  great  lengths  of  good 
and  harmless  talk,  seeming  to  think  that  his 
hearers  ought  to  put  up  with  its  insufferable 
lengthiness  because  it  is  pious  truth.  If  any 
were  to  tell  him  that  they  do  not  like  the  ex- 
cellent stuff  which  he  is  giving  them,  he  would 
tell  them  of  their  natural  depravity  of  heart. 


174  THE   L02<G- WINDED   SPEAICER, 


If  objection  is  made  to  the  length  of  his  con- 
tinnance,  he  ascribes  it  to  an  unholy  longing 
to  be  away  from  the  sanctuary  and  to  spend 
the  time  in  indolence  at  home.  The  drowsi- 
ness of  his  audience  does  not  annoy  him. 

This  man  may  be  tolerated  once  in  a  long 
while,  because  he  means  well,  and  what  he 
says  is  not  hurtful ;  but  when  Mr.  Empty 
rises  to  make  a  long  speech,  it  is  insufferable. 
His  countenance  says,  "Now,  here  I  am ;  may 
never  have  a  chance  to  speak  here  again,  and 
you  may  never  get  another  chance  to  hear 
mc  ;  so  I  will  keep  on  awhile."  The  coun- 
tenances of  the  hearers  say,  "  Do  wish  that 
man  had  stayed  away."  Nobody  cries,  "  Go 
on !  go  on !"  as  he  brings  his  sayings  to  a  close. 
There  is  a  general  feeling  of  relief  when  he 
stops,  coupled  with  the  hope  that  his  voice 
may  never  again  be  heard  till  he  has  some- 
thing to  say. 

It  is  impossible  to  say  exactly  what  should 
be  the  outside  length  of  an  address  to  Sunday 
School  children,  just  as  it  is  to  prescribe  a 


THE    LONG-WINDED    SPEAKER.  175 


limit  to  a  sermon  for  adults.  We  could  listen 
to  Tyng,  Gough,  Spurgeon,  and  many  others 
of  less  fame,  for  an  hour  and  a  half,  while  the 
stupid  imitator  of  Tyng,  Gough  or  Spurgeon, 
would  put  us  to  sleep,  or  disgust  us,  in  ten 
minutes.  As  a  general  thing,  however,  that 
which  takes  over  three-quarters  of  an  hour  to 
deli\  er  to  grown  people,  or  over  half  an  hour 
to  children,  is  not  reajembered.  It  may  be 
quoted  as  "very  fine,"  or  "really  splendid," 
or  "  the  best  I  ever  heard,"  but  the  effect  of 
it  is  lost.  Twenty  minutes  would  be  a  bet- 
ter general  length  than  thirty.  A  speaker  of 
rare  ability,  or  a  very  ridiculous  one,  may 
succeed  in  interesting  them  for  thirty  minutes. 

Two  remedies  may  be  prescribed.  One  to 
be  applied  by  the  speaker,  the  other  by  the 
Sunday  School  authorities. 

The  speaher.  Condense.  Get  some  good 
phonographer  to  attend  on  your  next  speech, 
and  take  down  what  you  say.  It  will  cost 
you  five  dollars,  which  will  be  well  spent,  for 
your  own  good,  and  the  good  of  the  commu- 


176  TIIE    LONG-WINDED    SPEAKER. 


nity.  When  the  phonographer  hands  you 
your  speech,  written  out,  you  may  be  aston- 
ished to  find  six  or  eight  repetitions  of  what 
need  have  been  said  but  once ;  also,  several 
things  which  you  will  stoutly  insist  you  did 
not  say  at  all.  Then  strike  out  all  the  repeti- 
tions, and  all  the  diffuse  stuff  which  you  need 
not  have  uttered,  boil  the  remainder  down, 
and  try  the  new  production  when  you  next  ap- 
pear in  public. 

The  authorities.  Never  invite  a  man  to 
speak  if  you  know  him  to  be  a  long-winded 
speaker.  You  have  no  right  to  trespass  on 
the  endurance  of  the  young  people  by  inflict- 
ins:  such  an  entertainment  on  them.  No  mat- 
ter  who  or  w^hat  he  is,  judge,  doctor,  elder, 
distinguished  foreigner,  or  brave  general,  if 
he  makes  a  long,  tedious  speech,  he  will  do  as 
much  harm  as  good.  Provide  sound,  wise, 
godly  men  to  address  your  children,  but  re- 
member that  they  must  be  spoken  to  with 
earnestness,  vigor,  and  brevity. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

At  the  Convention. 

fT  is  supposed  by  some  persons,  that  the 
post  of  chairman  at  a  Sunday  School  con- 
ve^ition  is  one  of  unadulterated  honor,  compli- 
ment and  enjoyment.  Quite  the  contrary. 
A  good  chairman  is  entitled  to  the  life-long 
gratitude  of  every  member  of  the  convention, 
not  only  for  v^hat  he  does,  but  for  what  he 
suffers.  He  must  listen  to  all  that  is  spoken. 
Others  may  yawn  and  slumber,  but  the  chair- 
man must  keep  awake.  Others  may  attend 
or  not,  as  they  choose,  may  talk  to  each  other, 
or  to  the  ladies,  or  may  read  books,  or  news.^ 
papers,  but  the  chairman  must  give  ear  to 
every  speech,  however  dreary,  and,  n\ust  make 
bold  to  stop  the  same  when  i^  exceeds  the 
appointed  limits.  All  sorts  of  speakers  rise 
before  him  in  turn,   (and  sometimes  out  of 


3  78  AT   THE    CONTENTION. 


their  turn,)  crying  out,  "Mister  Chairman!" 
His  official  title  falls  so  often  on  his  ears,  that 
he  congratulates  himself  that  it  is  not  to 
cleave  to  him  for  life,  as  do  titles  to  ex- 
governors,  ex-professors  and  ex-military  men. 

First  rises  the  clamorous  speaker.  He  must 
and  will  be  heard,  and  that  without  waiting. 
His  utterances  are  very  important,  (in  his 
own  estimation) ,  and  therefore  he  is  often  on 
the  floor.  If  he  over-runs  his  time,  and  the 
chairman  causes  him  to  sit  down,  he  says  it 
is  all  the  same,  and  he  will  go  on  when  the 
next  subject  of  debate  is  before  the  house.  It 
is  a  remarkable  feature  of  his  discourse  that 
it  will  answer  for  whatever  is  being  discussed, 
it  being  about  as  pertinent  to  one  part  as  an- 
other. Another  feature  is,  that  it  will  bear 
thus  being  cut  into  lengths,  like  so  much 
stove-pipe,  without  injury. 

The  faint-voiced  man  would  be  heard.  That 
is,  if  anybody  could  hear  him.  If  he  is  in  a 
position  where  the  chairman's  eye  happens  to 
light  on  him,  he  succeeds  in  obtaining   the 


AT   THE    CONVENTION.  179 

floor;  otherwise  he  has  to  wait  till  others 
who  are  more  noisy,  have  got  through.  He 
proceeds  in  a  whisper  or  a  squeak,  till  some- 
body on  the  other  side  of  the  house  complains 
that  the  speech  is  not  heard.  Then  he  raises 
his  voice  for  a  moment  or  two,  as  much  as  to 
say,  "Can't  you  hear  that?"  and  relapses  into 
his  inaudible  mutter.  What  he  says  may  be 
very  excellent,  but  it  fails  to  instruct,  inform, 
or  entertain  those  whose  ears  it  does  not  reach. 
Another  variety  of  faint-voicedness,  is  when  a 
man  consumes  two  minutes  of  a  five-minute 
speech  in  getting  up  his  voice.  It  is  to  the 
hearers  something  like  beginning  a  book  in 
the  middle.  And  yet  another  variety  is  the 
utterance  of  one  word  out  of  every  six  in  a 
low  tone.  This  is  generally  done  for  the  sake 
of  solemnity,  or  to  make  an  impression.  The 
speaker  who  does  it  should  have  blackboard 
and  chalk,  to  write  for  his  hearers  the  words 
to  which  he  thus  does  injustice. 

Then  we  hear  from  the  statistical  man.     He 
commences  with  the  original  observation  that 


180  AT    THE    CONVENTION. 


figures  will  not  lie,  and  forthwith  brings  in  a 
bundle  of  arithmetic  large  enough  for  a  day's 
study  in  a  respectable  grammar  school.  With 
this  he  can  prove  anything,  especially  that 
the  speaker  on  the  opposite  side  is  wrong. 
He  is  apt  to  mention  that  659,687  pages  of  reli- 
gious matter  have  been  distributed,  which 
have  been  read  by  6,789,568  men,  women, 
and  children ;  showing  that  each  page  has 
been  read  by  about  lOj  persons.  In  addi- 
tion to  this,  he  mentions  a  great  many  other 
mmierical  matters,  the  aggregate  effect  of 
W'hich  is  to  confuse  the  hearers.  A  man 
who  would  furnish  much  of  statistics,  should 
furnish  the  congregation  with  slates  and  pen- 
cils. Better  still  to  have  them  printed  on 
slips  of  paper.  Always  be  sure  they  are  reli- 
able. 

The  flowery  speaker  ventilates  his  perfumed- 
utterances.  But  he  is  in  difficulty  where  the 
allotted  time  for  each  speech  is  only  five 
minutes.  He  has  hardly  time  to  begin  to  get 
his  flowers  cut,  and  tie  up  his  nosegay.     And 


AT   THE    CONVENTION.  181 


ill  the  hurry  it  sometimes  happens  that  he  ties 
up  the  roses  with  the  thorns  sticking  out  too 
prominently.  Flowery  speech  may  do  when 
a  man  has  the  pulpit  to  himself  for  an  hour 
and  three-quarters,  but  please  to  let  us  have 
only  a  little  of  it  when  the  speech  must  be 
short. 

Sometime,  we  hear  from  an  apologetic 
individual,  who  asks  to  be  excused  for  rising 
at  all,  and  says  that  his  only  reason  is  that 
he  knows  nothing  whatever,  and  has  come 
for  information.  His  infirmity,  however,  is, 
that  after  he  has  made  this  confession,  he 
commences  to  instruct  the  asseYnbled  con- 
gregation in  something  which  he  does  know, 
or  thinks  he  knows,  until  "Mr.  Chairman" 
calls  him  to  order  for  exceeding  his  time. 

The  very  heavy  man  succeeds  in  obtaining 
the  floor.  He  has  been  stru2:2rlino^  for  some 
time,  but  others  got  ahead  of  him,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  cripple  at  the  pool  of  Bethesda.  He 
commences  by  saying,  "M-i-s-t-e-r  C-h-a-r- 
m-a-n  !     Human  nature  will  always  be  human 


182  AT    THE    COXYENTIOX. 


nature,  the  world  over."  At  the  utterance  of 
this  stoTtling  truth,  profound  silence  falls  like 
a  damp  sheet  over  the  whole  assembly.  They 
wait  with  breathless  anxiety  during  the  pause 
which  comes  between  that  and  the  next  sen- 
tence. When  the  next  sentence  comes,  it  is 
found  to  contain  nothing  very  important,  and 
the  same  proves  true  of  the  sentences  which 
succeed  it.     Nobody  disputes  Vv^hat  he  says. 

These  are  not  all  the  speakers,  but  they  are 
the  most  frequently  on  the  floor.  We  may 
learn  a  lesson  or  two  from  them.  The  man 
who  is  most  often  on  the  floor  does  not  succeed 
in  speaking'  at  all.  He  only  gets  as  far  as 
*^  Mr.  Chairman,"  when  he  discovers  that  some- 
body else  is  before  him,  and  subsides.  It  is 
impossible  to  tell  what  the  convention  lose 
by  his  failure  to  catch  the  chairman's  eye. 

Speakers,  listen  to  a  hint  or  two.  If  you 
like  them,  follow  them. 

Be  sure,  before  you  open  your  mouth,  that 
you  have  something  to  say. 

Be  certain  that  you   know  what  is  before 


AT   THE    CONVENTION.  183 


the  house  before  you  speak  on  it.     It  will  tend 
to  make  your  remarks  more  to  the  point. 

Don't  be  flowery.  The  shorter  your  words 
and  sentences  the  better. 

Condense.  Many  fifteen  minute  speeches 
would  be  better  if  boiled  down  to  five. 

Stop  as  soon  as  you  are  done. 

Leave  your  arithmetic  at  home,  especially 
if  the  speeches  are  to  be  short.  If  you  want 
to  give  your  hearers  figures,  give  only  grand 
totals.  They  will  forget  everything  else 
numerical. 

Let  your  voice  be  clear  and  loud.  It  is 
useless  to  say  anything  unless  you  say  it  so 
that  people  can  hear  you.  You  would  com- 
plain if  your  newspaper  were  a  great  sheet 
of  blurred  ink  marks,  instead  of  clear  typogra- 
phy. If  the  message  of  the  types  must  be 
made  plain  to  the  eye,  so  must  the  message 
of  the  voice  fall  plainly  on  the  ear. 

We  hear  too  much  talking  in  the  pews, 
while  speakers  are  speaking.  It  is  so  in  all 
religious   deliberative  bodies.     There   is  one 


184  AT    THE    COInYEIxTION. 


way  to  stop  it — only  one.  Let  every  speaker 
so  thoroughly  interest  his  hearers  that  no- 
body will  want  to  talk. 


CHAPTEE    XXXII. 

The  Empty  Man. 

OME  empty  things  are  empty  because 
they  have  been  exhausted  of  that  which 
they  formerly  contained.  This  is  not  the 
case  with  the  speaker  to  whom  we  now  listen. 
His  infirmity  is  that  he  was  not  filled.  Con- 
sequently he  has  nothing  to  say. 

It  would  be  well  for  himself  and  for  his 
hearers,  if  he  could  convince  himself,  before 
starting,  of  his  empty  condition.  But  he 
rises  with  the  air  of  one  who  has  important 
truths  to  communicate.  Even  if  he  has  an 
inward  conviction  that  he  has  not  much  to 
say,  he  thinks  the  emergency  may  bring  forth 
something.  He  has  heard  about  how  some 
great  men  find  words  and  thoughts  coming  to 
them  in  the  pulpit  and  upon  the  platform ,  and 
he  does  not  know  but  that  a  deluge  of  speech 

185 


186  THE    EIVIPTY    MAN. 

matter  may  flow  in  upon  him  after  he  gets  in 
motion.  He  is  iutroduced  to  those  who  are 
to  be  his  hearers.  He  looks  wise  at  them. 
They  look  at  him  as  if  they  expect  something 
very  fine.  But  he  is  empty  as  a  tin  rattle. 
True,  the  tin  rattle  has  a  few  solid  substances 
within  it,  which  can  be  made  to  jingle  against 
its  sides,  and  thus  produce  an  entertaining 
sound  for  very  young  person*.  So  our  empty 
friend  may  have  an  idea  or  two,  or  some  frag- 
mentary remnants  of  an  idea,  which  v/ill  jin- 
gle a  little  when  violently  agitated.  But  the 
music  of  the  rattle  is  monotonous,  and  soon 
becomes  tiresome.  So  with  the  speech.  It 
is  very  hard  work  to  listen  to  it ;  all  the  hard- 
er if  we  sympathise  with  the  sufi'ering  speaker 
in  his  laborious  efi*orts  to  pump  up  something 
from  where  there  is  nothing. 

For  the  opening  sentences  of  his  speech, 
Mr.  Empty  selects  some  wise  saws,  so  old 
that  all  their  teeth  are  worn  off,  or  else  some 
allusion  to  his  owu  emotions  on  being  asked 
to  address  such  an  assembly  as  that  which  is 


THE    EMPTY    MAN.  187 


before  hiin.  If  it  is  an  ordinary  Sunday 
School  address,  and  the  day  is  Mr,  he  opens 
b}^  saying,  "  My  dear  children,  I  am  glad  to 
see  you  here  this  bright  and  beautiful  after- 
noon." Then  a  pause  and  a  clearing  of  the 
throat,  waiting  for  something  else  to  come. 
When  the  something  does  come,  it  is  apt  to  be 
a  slight  paraphrase  of  the  sentence  already 
uttered,  or  an  improvement  on  it ;  for  instance, 
"  I  am  very  glad  indeed^  my  dear  young  friends, 
to  behold  your  pleasant  faces  here  on  this  sun- 
shhiy  day."  The  pleasurable  thought  which 
lies  at  the  bottom  of  this  may  be  ventilated 
seven  or  eio'ht  times  in  the  course  of  the 
speech.  If  the  occasion  is  a  great  one  —  an 
anniversary  or  a  pic-nic,  prominent  allusion 
is  made  to  "this  interesting  occasion,"  to  the 
pleasure  which  it  gives  the  angels  in  heaven 
to  behold  it,  and  to  the  Sunday  finery  with 
which  the  children  are  adorned.  If  it  is  at  a 
Sunday  School  convention,  where  five-minute 
speeches  are  being  delivered?  these  trite  re- 
marks consume  the   whole  of  the  speaker's 


188  THE    EJklPTY    MAN. 


time,  and  he  costs  the  convention  exactly  five 
minutes  of  its  time,  whenever  he  rises  ;  giving 
nothing  in  exchange  for  it. 

At  an  anniversary  or  other  meeting  where 
this  gentleman  officiates,  he  asks,  as  a  partic- 
ular favor,  that  he  may  be  the  last  speaker. 
This  he  does  in  the  hope  that  he  may  gather 
a  few  ideas  from  the  speakers  who  precede 
him.  He  makes  the  most  of  his  opportunities 
here,  and  sometimes  succeeds  in  appropriating 
some  ideas,  but  without  such  digestion  as  to 
make  them  his  own.  AYhen  he  brings  them 
out,  it  is  as  when  a  turkey  would  steal  pea- 
cock's feathers  for  purposes  of  personal  adorn- 
ment ;  all  who  see  their  rich  plumage  know 
that  they  did  not  grow  upon  the  turkey. 
He  says,  "  as  the  previous  speaker  has  just  elo- 
quently remarked"  —  and  then  he  proceeds 
with  a  mangled  hash  of  what  he  thought  the 
speaker  said,  with  variations.  If  the  youth- 
ful hearers  are  asked  what  he  said,  they  are 
apt  to  give  such  an  account  as  did  a  little  girl 
who  had  been  listening  to  one  of  these  empty 


THE   EMPTY    MAN.  189 

men.  "  Why,  ma,  he  talked,  and  he  talked, 
and  he  told  us  he  was  glad  to  see  us  ;  and  then 
he  talked ;  hut  he  didn^t  say  nothing  J" 

A  man  commenced  speaking  quite  eloquent- 
ly at  a  meeting  where  the  speeches  were  to 
be  but  five  minutes  long,  but  after  he  had 
spoken  about  two  minutes,  he  consumed  the 
remaining  three  in  telling  how  sorry  he  was 
that  the  time  was  so  short ;  he  would  like  to 
have  more  time.  By  general  consent,  his  time 
was  extended,  as  we  all  supposed  he  had  some- 
thing to  say ;  which  being  done,  he  paused, 
scratched  his  ear,  and  said,  "well,  really,  Mr. 
Chairman,  I  don't  know  that  I  have  anything 
more  to  say."  The  irrepressible  smile  which 
followed,  interfered  sadly  with  the  devotional 
purposes  for  which  the  meeting  was  lield.  The 
man  was,  oratorically  viewed,  a  tin  rattle. 
One  jingle  finished  him. 

The  Empty  Speaker  generally  talks  a  great 
while ;  always  as  long  as  he  is  allowed  to. 
He  keeps  on  in  the  hope  that  he  will  succeed 
in  saying  something,   a  hope  which  is  shared 


190  THE    EMPTY    MAN, 


by  his  hearers,  but  which  is  most  generally 
disappointed.  That  which  he  says  will  not 
w^arrant  the  labor  and  expense  of  phonograph- 
ing  or  printing. 

Emptiness  arises  from  want  of  preparation. 
It  may  seem  to  some  people  absurd  to  talk  of 
preparing  to  address  children.  It  is  a  great 
deal  more  absurd  to  address  them  without 
preparation.  Consider  what  you  have  to  say. 
If  you  have  nothing  to  say,  keep  your  mouth 
carefully  closed.  If  on  consideration,  you 
find  that  you  have  somewhat  to  say,  out  witli 
it,  weighing  every  word,  and  every  thought, 
dressing  it  in  its  most  pleasing  garb,  and  be- 
ing very  particular  to  stop  the  moment  you 
get  done. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

The  Dull  Speaker. 


JT  is  not  polite  to  withdraw  from  a  public 
assembly  while  a  gentleman  is  speaking. 
That  is  the  reason  why  people  stay  to  listen  to 
the  dull  man.  They  would  rather  go  home. 
As  they  feel  that  they  must  stay,  some  of 
them  take  advantage  of  the  opportunity  which 
is  offered  for  slumber. 

The  Dull  Speaker  is  among  orators  what  the 
hippopotamus  is  among  the  beasts  of  the  field. 
He  is  ponderous,  slow,  uncouth,  and  some- 
what majestic.  He  puts  forth  his  views  in 
the  stately  but  clumsy  manner  in  which  the 
great  animal  puts  out  his  feet  when  he  walks. 
And  he  as  completely  crushes  out  all  interest 
from  the  minds  of  his  weary  hearers,  as  the 
hippopotamus  crushes  the  weeds  and  grass 
wherever  he  sets  his  great  flat  feet.     When 


192  THE    DULL    SPEAKER. 


he  commences  his  speech  he  looks  as  if  to  say, 
"  here  is  wisdom ;  "  and  although  the  appear- 
ance of  wisdom  is  carried  along  the  whole 
course  of  it,  the  wisdom  itself  is  so  far  down 
in  the  depths  of  s]3eechly  profundity,  that  it  is 
impossible  for  ordinary  people  to  fish  it  up, 
or  else  it  is  so  completely  enwrapped  in  fog, 
that  it  cannot  be  seen.  But  he  has  the  name 
of  being  exceedingly  wise. 

There  is  little  dispute  about  what  he  says. 
His  manner  throws  his  matter  so  much  in  the 
shade,  that  but  few  of  his  hearers  concern 
themselves  about  whether  it  is  wise  or  unwise. 
Frequently  he  utters  sound  sense,  but  in  such 
a  way  as  to  render  the  youth  whom  he  ad- 
dresses, insensible  to  any  good  efiect  it  might 
otherwise  produce  on  them.  His  wisdom 
would  be  in  order  for  delivery  to  a  historical 
or  statistical  society,  or  for  printing  on  those 
pages  of  a  benevolent  society's  report  which 
are  never  read.  But  nb  Sunday  School  wants 
to  be  wearied  by  its  insufierable  dullness. 
The  only  comments  we  hear  about  it,  when  it 


THE   DULL    SPEAKER.  193 


is  over,  are  those  which  touch  on  its  tiresome- 
ness, its  heaviness,  or  the  celebrity  and  gene- 
ral ability  of  the  good  and  great  man  who  has 
uttered  it.  Nobody  remembers  any  particu- 
lar point  in  it,  if  indeed  it  had  any  point. 
Sometimes  the  speaker  does  get  off  a  worn- 
out  joke,  which  is  remembered  for  its  clum- 
siness, its  failure  to  produce  the  effect  which 
a  well  executed  joke  is  known  to  produce, 
and  its  being  entirely  out  of  place  in  every 
respect. 

If  the  Dull  Speaker,  and  his  brother,  the 
Long-winded  Speaker,  should  both  speak  on 
the  same  occasion,  it  is  entirely  too  much  for 
any  audience.  If  a  collection  is  to  follow  the 
efforts  of  either,  or  both  of  them,  the  particu- 
lar branch  of  benevolence  which  the  collection 
is  intended  to  refresh,  is  likely  to  go  very 
hungry.  All  the  hearers  yawn  when  Mr. 
Dull  begins.  The  children  have  got  into  the 
habit  of  yawning  at  the  mere  mention  of  his 
name. 

Dull  is  behind  the  age  in  most  things.     If 


194  THE   DULL    SPEAKER. 


he  sp(3aks  at  a  missionary  meeting,  he  tells 
things  which  were  known  in  1834,  rather 
than  matters  of  more  recent  intelligence.  He 
sometimes  spreads  himself  on  how  one  Kobert 
Raikes  went  into  a  certain  Sunday  School  en- 
terprise, which  was  the  beginning  of  all  pres- 
ent Sunday  School  enterprises.  In  national 
matters,  he  has  got  as  far  as  to  where  the 
rebels  fired  on  Fort  Sumter,  and  may  be  ex- 
pected by  next  anniversary  season  to  have  be- 
come acquainted  with  the  facts  of  the  first  bat- 
tle of  Bull  Paul. 

Talk  to  this  man  about  interesting  the  chil- 
dren. Tell  him  that  he  does  not  do  it,  and 
that  he  ought  to  try.  He  wdll  put  on  a  look 
of  profound  wisdom,  and  gravely  shake  his 
head,  while  he  tells  you  of  the  stuff  and  flum- 
mery with  which  many  vain  men  seek  to  in- 
terest children.  These  men,  he  says,  arouse 
a  certain  degree  of  ephemeral  excitement ;  how 
much  better  to  give  them  something  good  and 
solid.  These  men  but  tickle  the  youthful 
ears,  while  his  wise  sayings  go  all  the  way  to 


THE    DULL    SPEAKER.  195 


the  heart.  Perhaps  he  thinks  they  do,  but  if 
he  would  examine  the  children  at  the  close  of 
a  ilull  discourse,  he  would  find  that  not  even 
th3ir  ears  were  touched.   ~ 

Mr.  Dull !  Mr.  Dull !  wake  up  !  You  are 
not  interesting  the  children,  or  anybody  else. 
Nobody  wants  to  listen  to  you.  You  proba- 
bly do  harm  every  time  you  open  your  mouth 
to  speak.  You  could  do  good  if  you  would 
turn  over  a  new  leaf.  Remember  that  you 
have  no  more  right  to  serve  np  even  good 
truth  in  your  dull  way,  than  your  cook  has  to 
bring  your  food  to  the  table  prepared  in  such 
a  way  that  you  cannot  possibly  eat  it.  Wake 
up,  sir !  When  you  speak,  remember  that 
you  have  a  message  for  your  hearers.  Up  to 
your  duty  of  delivering  it,  in  a  straight-for- 
ward, manly  way  !  Think  well  and  study 
well  before-hand  what  you  are  to  say.  Stand 
erect,  throw  back  your  shoulders,  and  throw 
open  your  mouth,  and  let  the  speech  roll  out 
clearly  and  plainly,  so  that  it  will  be  heard. 
Begin  without  apology  or  introduction.     Be- 


196  THE   DULL    SPEAKER. 


gin  without  telliog  who  you  are,  or  the  cir- 
cumstances of  merely  personal  interest  which 
have  called  you  out.  Speak  fast  enough  to 
keep  your  hearers  from  going  to  sleep.  Look 
them  in  the  eyes  so  as  to  make  each  one  say 
when  he  goes  home,  "Mother,  that  man  was 
looking  right  at  me."  Above  all,  feel  that 
you  must  try  to  do  them  some  good,  and  trying 
this,  throw  your  whole  soul  into  the  speech. 
Then  nobody  will  say  you  are  a  Dull  Speaker 
any  more. 

Not  worth  the  trouble  of  all  this?  Can't 
doit?  Then,  sir,  quit  your  public  perform- 
ances altogether.  Sit  down  in  the  far  corner 
of  yonder  pew,  and  go  to  sleep,  and  give 
place  to  somebody  who  can  keep  everybody 
but  yourself  awake.  There  is  no  use  in  try- 
ing to  wake  you  up. 


CHAPTER  XXXI\r. 

The  Talking  Superintendent. 

/jLp  VERY  good  teacher  in  the  Sunday  School 
\Zy  over  which  this  gentleman  presides, 
wishes  that  a  stopper  could  be  applied  to  his 
fluency.  The  indifferent  teachers  hold  him 
in  admiration,  for  he  exercises  his  gifts  so 
much  as  to  save  them  the  trouble  of  filling  up 
the  time  with  teaching,  and  so  to  avoid  dis- 
closure of  the  fact  that  they  ^e  unprepared 
on  the  lesson. 

His  ways  about  the  opening  exercises  are 
not  like  the  ways  of  other  superintendents. 
Some  men  can  give  dut  a  hymn  without  offer- 
ing remarks  on  it,  but  our  friend  cannot.  He 
sees  in  each  verse  that  is  to  be  sung,  some 
important  truth,  which  he  fears  will  not  be 
observed  by  the  children  unless  he  calls  their 
attention  to  it.     So  he  delivers  an  extempore 

197 


198    THE  TALKING  SUPEKINTENDENT. 


address  of  several  minuted  on  the  first  verse, 
to  begiu  with.  The  important  things  in  the 
following  verses  then  crowd  upon  him  so 
thickly,  that  by  the  time  he  is  done  giving 
them  the  attention  they  deserve,  several 
minutes  more  have  passed.  He  is  startled  for 
a  moment  when  he  looks  at  the  clock,  but 
thinks  he  will  make  it  all  square  by  singing 
only  a  part  of  the  hymn.  He  gives  out,  "  Sing, 
if  you  please,  two  stanzas,  beginning  at  the 
fourth."  He  congratulates  himself  so  much 
on  the  saving  of  time  thus  efiected,  that  before 
engaging  in  prayer,  he  addresses  the  school  on 
the  subject  of  prayer ;  an  excellent  subject, 
and  one  whicir  should  be  frequently  before 
them,  but  not  especially  in  order  just  now. 
The  prayer  being  duly  arrived  at,  and  finished, 
a  chapter  in  the  Bible  is  to  be  read.  The  su- 
perintendent now  becomes  a  speaking  com- 
mentary, partly  studied,  partly  extemporized, 
principally  the  latter.  Time  is  spent  here 
which  ought  to  be  spent  by  the  teachers  in 
giving  prepared   instruction,  and   a   slender 


THE  TALKING  SUPERINTENDENT.    l99 

amount  of  good  is  accomplished  by  the  expo- 
sitions, which  he  gives,  which  are  too  often 
like  the  "  variations  "  which  young  ladies  play 
on  the  piano — somewhat  pleasing  to  the  ear, 
but  generally  only  dilutions  of  the  march, 
quickstep  or  popular  air  which  is  thus 
"  varied."  For  instance,  if  he  is  reading  the 
eleventh  chapter  of  Joshua,  he  would  oifer  the 
remark  on  the  eighteenth  verse  that  the  kings 
against  whom  Joshua  was  fighting  were  so 
many,  and  their  opposition  so  great,  that  he 
spent  a  long  time  in  the  war  before  he  could 
finish  it ;  the  remark  being  about  three  times 
as  long  as  the  verse,  and  throwing  no  light 
whatever  on  it.  When  the  cli^ter  is  finished, 
the  way  is  clear  for  exhortation  on  whatever 
subject  is  uppermost  in  his  mind.  The  regu- 
lar duties  of  the  school  ought  to  go  on,  but 
he  cannot  bear  the  thouofht  of  neoflectino-  so 
good  an  opportunity  for  a  speech.  Some- 
times his  speech  is  on  the  lesson,  sometimes 
on  punctuality,  sometimes  on  the  management 
of  the  library,  sometimes  on  making  a  noise 


200    THE  TALKING  SUPERINTENDENT. 


in  school ;  but  more  frequently  on  matters 
and  things  m  general. 

And  now,  his  making  of  speeches  being 
suspended  for  a  while,  he  makes  the  cheering 
announcement  to  the  teachers  that  it  is  time 
to  go  on  with  the  lessons.  This  announce- 
ment comes  like  a  call  to  dinner,  when  the 
dinner  has  been  standing  on  the  table  and 
getting  cold  for  half  an  hour.  Nobody  can 
go  to  work  on  the  lesson  with  the  appetite 
that  would  have  helped  them  had  the  speeches 
been  left  out.  The  lesson  drao^s.  Teachers 
and  scholars  are  alike  wearied.  The  younger 
children  make  a  noise.  Superintendent  jin- 
gles his  bell,  gives  notice  that  they  will  please 
to  stop  their  noise  immediately,  and  accom- 
panies the  notice  with  a  speech  of  six  minutes 
on  the  wickedness  of  making  a  noise  in  Sun- 
day School.  Several  of  the  children  pause  in 
their  noise-making  till  the  speech  is  over. 

The  lesson  is  finished,  being  hurried  through 
in  much  less  than  its  proper  time.  Mr. 
Speechy  now  ofiers   some  remarks  in  expla- 


THE  TALKING  SUPERINTENDENT.    201 


nation  of  it,  which,  he  says,  have  occurred  to 
him  while  the  school  has  been  engaged  on  it. 
These  last  remarks  are  extemporized,  and 
somewhat  diffuse.  Nobody  learns  much  from 
them.  Then,  with  a  brief  harangue  on  things 
in  general,  he  dismisses  the  school. 

On  a  speech  occasion,  such  as  a  misssionary 
day  or  anniversary,  this  officer  is  a  great  bore 
to  the  hearers.  He  talks  so  much  at  other 
times,  that  nobody  cares  about  listening  to 
him  now.  But  he  allows  no  such  trifling  con- 
sideration as  this  to  interfere  with  the  exer- 
cise of  his  gifts  and  his  rights.  If  he  does  not 
positively  make  a  speech,  he  does  a  great  deal 
of  negative  speaking,  such  as  introducing  the 
speakers,  which  ought  to  be  the  work  of  a 
moment,  but  which  he  spins  out  by  telling 
where  each  speaker  comes  from,  and  all  he 
knows  about  him.  This,  by  the  way,  is  very 
disagreeable  to  most  speakers.  He  also  fills 
in  the  chinks  of  the  time  by  praising  each 
speech,  as  the  speaker  sits  down.  This  also 
is  disagreeable,  both  to  speaker  and  hearers. 


202    THE  TALKING  SUPERINTENDENT. 


If  this  Sunday  School  orator  could  bottle 
up  his  fluency,  so  as  to  keep  it  from  flowing 
out  when  it  is  not  wanted,  it  would  be  a  great 
gain  to  his  school  and  to  himself.  He  needs 
a  time-table,  and  should  run  his  exercises  by 
it,  precisely  as  punctual  railroad  conductors 
run  their  trains.  Let  him  allow  a  certain 
number  of  minutes  for  each  part  of  the  exer- 
cises ;  if  he  must  make  a  speech  or  speeches, 
let  just  so  many  minutes  be  allowed,  and  let 
the  speech  come  in  it  its  proper  place  and  time. 
Let  it  be  a  good  speech,  well  conceived  and 
thought  out,  and  carefully  and  simply  de-, 
livered,  even  if  it  is  but  three  minutes  long. 
Three  minutes  of  such  speaking  will  do  more 
good  than  a  whole  session  spent  in  garrulous 
pnlaver. 


CHAPTER    XXXY. 

The  Stuffed  Children. 

CHE  practice  of  stuffing  small  children 
with  speeches  for  platform  delivery, is 
so  fashionable  that  it  seems  little  better  than 
useless  to  say  anything  against  it.  There  is 
not  much  more  chance  of  obtaining  a  hearing 
from  those  who  think  well  of  the  custom,  than 
there  is  of  being  respectfully  listened  to  by  a 
young  mother,  when  you  tell  her  that  she  is 
killing  her  baby  by  exposing  its  neck  and 
arms  uncovered ;  or  by  a  young  lady,  when 
you  warn  her  of  the  mischiefs  of  tight-lacing. 
Young  mother  insists  that  her  baby's  arms 
are  covered  enough ;  that  they  do  not  need 
any  covering  at  all ;  and  that  you  know  noth- 
ing whatever  about  the  baby.  Young  lady 
declares  that  her  lungs  are  not  crowded  by 
the  foolish  machinery  with  which  she  girdles 

203 


204  THE    STUFFED    CHILDREN. 


them,  and  that  it  is  nobody's  business  but  her 
own,  if  she  does  choose  to  kill  herself  in  this 
way,  rather  than  to  die  a  natural  death.  So 
the  promoters  of  juvenile  speaking  maintain 
that  it  is  excellent  training  for  the  ohildren 
who  speak ;  that  it  will  make  statesmen  and 
orators  of  the  boys  —  (the  corresponding  ar- 
gument for  girls  must  be,  that  it  will  give  them 
sufficient  command  of  language  to  enable  them 
to  scold  handsomely  in  the  event  of  becoming 
maternal  heads  of  families)  —  that  it  will  ben- 
efit the  school  religiously  and  pecuniarily,  es- 
pecially the  latter ;  and  that  it  is  in  every  re- 
spect a  very  fine  thing. 

Nevertheless,  whether  people  will  listen  or 
not,  let  me  say  a  word  about  it. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  great  numbers  of 
dimes  and  such  things,  are  taken  at  the  door 
of  every  Sunday  School  or  church  thrown 
open  for  one  of  these  exhibitions  of  stufied 
youngsters.  Neither  is  it  denied  that  the 
young  persons  so  stufied  and  exhibited  do  ac- 
quire a  certain  amount  of  brazen-facedness, 


THE  STUFFED  CHILDREN.       205 


which,  if  cultivated,  will  fit  them  for  active 
duties  in  public  speaking,  scolding,  or  any 
other  branch  of  exhortation.  But  the  money 
so  raised,  burns  holes  in  the  prosperity  of  the 
school,  and  the  oratorio  gifts  thus  acquired 
by  the  children,  are  of  very  questionable  ad- 
vantage. 

An  anniversary  is  announced  under  the  ob- 
jectionable name  of  "  Exhibition,"  thus  putting 
our  children  in  the  same  category  with  the 
"  What-is-it,"  the  Thumb  family,  the  learned 
seal,  and  the  calf  with  two  heads.  And  the 
name  of  exliihition  is  just  the  name  for  it. 
The  children  whom  we  love,  are  thrust  for- 
ward for  show,  exactly  as  are  the  celebrities 
just  mentioned.  Their  performance  is  some- 
times very  good,  sometimes  exceedingly  poor, 
sometimes  of  a  negative  order,  half-way  be- 
tween good  and  bad,'  puzzling  the  disinter- 
ested bystander  as  to  the  verdict  he  is  ex- 
pected to  render  concerning  it.  Strange 
speeches  are  spoken,  and  odd  poems  recited, 
by  children  who  know  no  more  of  the  mean- 


206  THE    STUFFED    CHILDEEN. 


iiig  of  what  the  J  are  saying,  than  does  the 
green  parrot  in  the  tin  cage,  of  what  he 
screeches.  Some  selections  are  made  from 
the  Bible,  in  which  case  the  words  of  Scrip- 
ture are  sometimes  beautifully  rendered,  some- 
times mangled,  or  carelessly  hurried  over,  with 
as  little  reverence  as  would  be  observed  in  re- 
citing the  multiplication  table.  Other  selec- 
tions are  made  from  the  reading  books  in  use 
at  day-school,  or  from  some  of  the  "dog-a- 
log "  books  published  for  the  purpose.  "My 
name  is  IN^orval  on  the  Grampian  hills,"  "You'd 
scarce  expect  one  of  my  age,"  "  My  voice  is 
still  for  war,"  and  such  stirring  bits  of  elo- 
quence, are  shown  up  side  by  side  with  "A 
dialogue  by  tAvelve  boys  and  two  grown  per- 
sons, representing  Joseph's  dream  ;  "  "  A  dia- 
logue by  two  boys,  on  the  use  of  Tobacco  ;  " 
and  "How  doth  the  little  busy  bee,  by  a  little 
girl  three  years  old  last  Wednesday."  The 
printed  programmes,  describing  these  enter- 
tainments, are  often  very  funny  things,  and 
worthy    of   preservation    in    sc7'ap    books  or 


THE  STUFFED  CHILDREN.        207 

other  safe  places.  The  style  of  the  oratory, 
too,  is  queer.  "Norval  on  the  Grampian  hills," 
aged  fourteen  years,  looks  sternly  at  his  hear- 
ers, raises  his  right  arm  as  the  handle  of  a 
pump  is  raised,  and  proceeds.  The  boy  whose 
"  voice  is  still  for  war,"  shows  that  his  utter- 
ances come  from  his  heart,  by  placing  his  hand 
frequently  over  that  organ,  extending  his  fin- 
gers and  thumb  very  much  as  a  daddy-long- 
legs extends  his  legs  in  crawling.  One  of  the 
Tobacco  dialogue  boys  goes  heart  and  fists  in- 
to the  subject,  while  the  other  one,  (the  boy 
who  has  the  worst  of  it,)  has  the  same  style 
of  animation  as  that  which  is  shown  by  the 
painted  mandarins  in  the  tea-shop  windows. 
The  three-year  old  "Busy  Bee,"  squeaks  out 
what  she  has  to  say  about  that  industrious  in- 
sect, in  the  very  best  way  she  knows  how. 
Her  gestures  are  like  those  of  a  jointed  doll. 
Poor  little  creature  !  She  should  have  been 
put  to  bed  two  hours  ago,  instead  of  being 
trotted  out  tliis  way  at  night,  to  be  made  a 
show  of. 


208  THE    STUFFED    CHILDREN. 

I  recently  paid  ten  cents  for  admission  to 
one  of  these  infant  prodigy  shows,  the  printed 
programme  of  which  announced  forty  pieces 
to  be  spoken  or  performed — just  four  for  a 
cent.  The  performers  and  orators  were  from 
two  years  and  a  half  old,  all  the  way  to  big 
boys  and  girls,  the  girls  being  dressed  in  a 
profusion  of  finery.  The  thing  was  held  in  a 
church.  The  platform  was  cleared  of  the  pul- 
pit, so  that  the  oratoric  juveniles  might  have 
space  in  which  to  spread  themselves.  The 
pastor  announced  the  items  of  performance,  in 
their  turn.  All  went  on  according  to  pro- 
gramme, till  about  nine  o'clock,  when  he  an- 
nounced, "the  next  item  on  the  bill  is,  Ad- 
dress  by  an  infant  of  three  years  old.''  He 
then  benevolently  looked  down  from  the  plat- 
form to  assist  the  infant  when  it  should  be 
pushed  up  by  its  parents,  who  were  near  by, 
in  charge  of  the  little  creature.  But  no  infant 
was  thrust  forward.  After  a  few  moments 
of  delay  and  buzz,  the  pastor  announced,  "I 
regret  to  say,  that  the  infant  who  was  to  have 


THE    STUFFED    CllILDEEN.  209 

addressed  us,  has  gone  to  sleep!  "  Poor  little, 
over-stimulated,  exhausted  child !  She  had 
taught  her  foolish  parents  and  friends,  that 
they  should  not  make  such  stupid  demands  on 
three-year-old  humanity.  Her  stuffing  and 
cramming  all  went  for  nothing ;  the  ambition 
of  the  parents  was  disappointed,  as  it  ought 
to  have  been.  The  audience  laughed  heartily. 
The  next  youngster  was  stood  up,  and  the 
moral  menagerie-show  went  on. 

A  view  of  the  poor  creatures  behind  the 
curtain,  may  be  profitable. 

Deciding  which  children  shall  speak  is  a  dif- 
ficult and  dangerous  enterprise.  Who  shall 
decide?  Whoever  does,  is  sure  to  get  some- 
body's ill-will,  for  not  deciding  that  some- 
body's children  shall  speak,  instead  of  the 
children  of  somebody  else.  The  committee 
who  have  this  business  in  hand,  almost  always 
get  into  trouble.  But  this  is  comparatively  a 
small  matter,  for  they  are  grown  people,  and 
can  make  the  best  of  their  way  out  of  it. 

There  are  two  hundred  and  fifty  children, 


210  THE    STUFFED    CIIILDKEN. 

let  US  say,  in  the  school.  About  thirty 
speeches  are  wanted.  That  will  be  an  abun- 
dance. Two  hundred  and  twenty  young  per- 
sons must  he  speechless.  What  are  the  qual- 
ifications for  those  who  are  to  speak?  Age, 
stature,  parentage,  ability  to  gesticulate,  moral 
or  intellectual  excellence,  or  punctual  attend- 
ance at  school  for  a  term  of  months?  From 
the  shocking  speaking  which  some  of  the 
young  orators  do,  one  would  suspect  one  of 
these  roads  to  omtoric  fame,  as  quickly  as  an- 
other. The  fact  is,  there  is  a  great  deal  of 
wire-pulling  about  it,  just  as  there  is  in  polit- 
ical life,  about  the  nomination  of  candidates. 
(It  is  a  common  fallacy  to  suppose  that  all  the 
candidates  nominated  and  elected  in  our  free 
country,  are  those  whom  the  people  really 
want.)  Mrs.  Dull  wants  her  Johnny  to  make 
a  speech,  or  recite  a  poem.  The  committee 
know  that  John  will  make  slow  business  of 
it ;  he  hasn't  the  right  kind  of  brains.  But 
Mrs.  D.  gave  fifty  dollars  to  the  church  last 
year,  and  if  her  Johnny  is  rejected,  she  may 


TIIE    STUFFED    CHILDREN.  211 

withdraw  her  interest  in  it.  Besides,  she 
offers  to  stuff  and  train  him,  which  takes  a  very 
great  burden  off  of  somebody.  John  is  ac- 
cepted, trained,  and  exhibited,  but  makes  such 
a  poor  fist  at  learning  "Excelsior,"  that  were 
it  not  for  the  attentions  of  the  boy  who  sits 
near  at  hand  with  his  booli,  acting  as  prompt- 
er, he  would  have  to  leave  the  platform  in 
disgrace.  Sampson  Spry  is  disposed  to  take 
part  in  the  exercises,  and  is  supposed  to  have 
some  oratorio  ability,  but  his  speech  runs  into 
very  lively  gesticulations,  like  the  toy  jacka- 
napes, which  jumps  by  pulling  a  string,  and 
Sample  is  not  understood.  The  committee 
prevail  on  the  parents  of  Georgiannette  Slim 
to  let  her  perform  as  an  infant  prodigy,  but 
Georgiannette  eats  green  pears  a  few  days 
before  the  "  exhibition  "  comes  off,  and  is  laid 
on  the  shelf  till  it  is  over.  The  friends  and 
adherents  of  the  two  hundred  and  twenty 
young  persons  who  make  no  speeches,  are 
divided  in  feeling ;  some  being  angry  at  the 
committee  for  not  bringing  their  children  for- 


212  THE    STUFFED    CHILDREN. 

ward :  while  others  congratulate  themselves 
that  their  children  were  not  made  fools  of,  as 
were  most  of  the  children  who  spoke. 

Then,  after  the  speaking  is  done,  the  vain 
children  are  elated  by  the  compliments  heap- 
ed upon  them,  and  even  the  sensible  ones  are 
tickled  by  the  same.  No  matter  how  badly 
a  child  performs,  some  people  will  praise  it, 
sometimes  for  expediency,  to  keep  in  flivor 
with  the  parents,  sometimes  for  the  sake  of 
not  discouraging  the  little  thing.  If  these 
compliments  induce  a  repetition  of  the  decla- 
mation, their  effect  is  bad.  Anyhow,  dosing 
a  child  with  compliments  is  a  dangerous  kind- 
ness. 

What  is  the  effect  on  the  school  ?  Tremen- 
dous.  Did  not  the  newspaper  reporter  go  to 
the  show?  Did  he  not  describe  it  in  such 
glowing  colors  as  to  break  every  school  in 
tov\ai  which  does  not  have  such  shows  ?  Did 
he  not  praise  the  immense  trouble,  and  the 
forgetfulness  of  expense  with  which  the  com- 
mittee had  got  up  the  entertainment  ?     Did 


THE    STUFFED     CIIILDrwEN.  213 


he  not  speak  of  the  polish  and  refinement  of 
Johnny  Dull,  of  the  earnestness  and  activity 
of  young  Mr.  Spry,  and  of  the  delicate  tones 
of  Sally  Simper's  voice,  of  whose  speech  he 
could  not  hear  one  word  ?  Did  he  not  com- 
mend the  singing,  the  ability  of  the  superin- 
tendent, the  devotion  of  the  teachers,  the  elo- 
quence of  the  pastor,  (whom  he  never  heard,) 
the  beauty  of  the  church,  the  density  of  the 
crowd,  and  all  other  things  that  ought  to  be 
commended?  Oh,  yes  —  it  is  a  very  prosper- 
ous school,  a  notorious  school,  and  all  because 
it  had  an  "  exhibition  "  of  its  children,  who 
were  taken  in  charge  not  to  be  shown  off  in 
this  style,  not  to  be  trifled  with,  but  to  be 
taught  the  way  of  everlasting  life. 

Stuffing  children  for  anniversary  speeches, 
may  be  a  good  way  to  draw  a  crowd ;  to  fill 
an  exhausted  treasury ;  to  give  children  a 
taste  for  stuff  and  nonsense  instead  of  for  the 
gospel ;  to  gain  the  praise  of  the  v/orld ;  but 
it  is  not  the  way  to  make  children  wise  unto 
eternal  life.     The  business  is  growing  more 


214  THE    STUFFED    CHILDREN. 


popular  every  day.  Many  well-meaning  Chris- 
tians have  suffered  themselves  to  be  taken  in 
by  its  popularity.  Serious  work  of  the  Sun- 
day School  is  in  many  instances  neglected  for 
it.  If  it  is  not  checked,  it  will  become  an  evil 
even  of  more  fearful  magnitude  than  it  is  now. 
Better  let  the  children  sit  as  hearers  of 
speeches ;  if  they  want  to  let  their  voices  be 
heard,  teach  them  to  sing  in  the  most  glorious 
style  possible.  Teach  them,  too,  real  hymns  ; 
not  the  trash  which  is  fit  only  to  be  fiddled 
and  danced  to,  which  too  often  finds  its  way 
into  our  Sunday  Schools.  Provide  for  speak- 
ers, wise,  able,  interesting  Christian  men, 
who  will  instruct  as  well  as  entertain ;  throw 
open  your  doors,  and  invite  your  friends  to 
come  to  your  anniversary.  Don't  charge 
them,  any  more  than  you  would  for  coming  to 
a  sermon  or  a  prayer-meeting.  ,They  have  a 
right  to  be  there.  Raise  money  in  some  other 
way,  to  pay  the  expenses  of  the  school.  Your 
school,  and  all  concerned  with  it,  will  prosper 
in  this  way,  better  than  by  turning  religious 
education  into  an  intellectual  menagerfe. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

The  Peripatetic  Bore. 

E  is  an  uneasy  genius,  who  cannot  find 
rest  for  the  sole  of  his  foot  in  any  par- 
ticular branch  of  Sunday  School  effort.  He 
used  to  teach  a  class  ;  but  a  peculiar  kind  of 
headache,  which  attacked  and  vanquished 
him  every  Sunday,  placed  him  on  the  exempt 
list,  after  a  brief  and  irregular  term  of  ser- 
vice. He  was  put  in  charge  of  the  library ; 
but  his  aching  head  could  not  stand  the  labor. 
They  made  him  superintendent;  but  at  the 
next  election  it  was  considered  advisable  to 
drop  him,  and  substitute  a  man  of  more  stead- 
fastness and  ability.  So,  on  the  principle  that 
an  Ex-President  of  the  United  States  cannot 
consent  to  serve  as  police  magistrate  or  town 
clerk,  the  uneasy  person  has  ever  since  been 
out  of  office.     But  he  feeL^  a  warm  interest  in 

215 


216  THE    PERIPATETIC   BORE, 


the  Sunday  School  work,  and  that  feeling  of 
interest  needs  public  ventilation.  How  shall 
it  be  ventilated  ? 

There  is  no  such  effectual  way  of  putting 
himself  and  his  Sunday  School  interest  before 
the  public,  as  to  travel  round  from  school  to 
school,  paying  visits,  and  making  addresses 
to  those  who  will  listen  to  them.  He  per- 
forms a  vast  amount  of  this  self-imposed 
missionary  labor,  and  often  to  the  regret  of 
the  schools  which  suffer  it  to  be  inflicted  on 
them.  His  first  visit  is  an  occasion  of  inter- 
est ;  but  after  he  has  been  along  three  or 
four  times,  the  remark  is  made,  "Here  comes 
that  same  man  again,"  or  "  AYhat  does  he  come 
so  often  for?  "  or  "  We  ha^e  heard  all  he  has 
to  say."  Pie  does  not  let  on,  if  he  hears  these 
remarks,  but  keeps  on  with  his  visits,  and 
makes  a  speech  wherever  he  is  invited.  The 
obliging  superintendent  of  the  school  which 
he  most  frequents,  has  resolved  not  to  ask  him 
to  speak  again ;  but  his  good  nature  gets  the 
better  of  his  judgment,  and  the  bore  is  again 


THE    PERIPATETIC    BORE.  217 


and  again  permitted  to  entertain  himself  by 
his  well-meaning  harangue. 

To  listen  to  his  own  account  of  the  labors 
he  has  performed,  the  good  he  has  done,  the 
sacrifices  he  has  made,  and  the  perspiration 
and  fatigue  he  has  suffered,  you  would  sup- 
pose that  he  had  refreshed  all  the  Sunday 
Schools  within  several  miles  of  where  he  lives, 
and  has  saved  the  most  of  them  from  almost 
hopeless  decay.  You  would  suppose  that  the 
boys  and  girls  in  these  schools  are  as  clamor- 
ous for  his  coming  as  they  woidd  be  for  a 
magic  lantern  show,  or  the  exhibition  of  a 
menagerie  with  several  monkeys  in  it.  From 
his  version  of  the  politeness  with  which  the 
superintendents  receive  him,  and  the  pressing 
urgency  with  which  they  invite  him  to  speak, 
you  would  not  imagine  how  tired  they  are  of 
him,  and  how  they  do  invite  him  to  spe^k 
only  because  they  fear  his  feelings  wdll  be  hurt 
if  they  let  him  sit  speechless.  When  you 
hear  him  tell  of  the  breathless  attention  with 
which   both   adults  and  children  listened  to 


218  THE    PEEIPATETIC    BOKE. 


his  "few  remarks,"  suppress  your  recollec- 
tion of  the  yawns  which  overcame  you,  as 
you  heard  him  deUver,  at  your  school,  the 
same  speech  which  you  had  heard  him  de- 
liver three  previous  times  elsewhere.  And 
do  not  spoil  the  "  original  anecdote "  which 
he  has  spun  out  to  twenty-two  Sunday 
Schools,  by  referring  to  the  religious  newspa- 
per from  whose  columns  he  scissored  it. 

It  is  not  necessary,  for  the  sake  of  polite- 
ness, to  ask  everybody  who  visits  your  Sun- 
day School  to  "  ofler  a  few  remarks."  Some 
superintendents  have  a  habit  of  doing  it,  just 
as  they  would  ask  a  man  to  take  a  seat,  or  to 
let  them  take  his  hat  and  umbrella.  Few 
things  are  likely  to  injure  a  Sunday  School 
more  certainly  than  this  species  of  vagabond 
oratory.  It  distracts  the  attention  of  the  chil- 
dren from  their  lessons ;  it  disarranges  the 
order  of  the  exercises ;  it  frequently  reduces 
the  spirituality  of  the  school ;  it  is  altogether  a 
nuisance  which  ought  not  to  be  tolerated. 

If  the  afflicted  superintendent  of  a  suffer- 


THE    PERIPATETIC   BOKE.  219 


ing  Sunday  School  wants  to  get  rid  of  these 
troublesome  visitors,  there  are  two  ways  in 
which  he  can  do  it. 

First — Don't  ask  anybody  to  speak  for  the 
sake  of  politeness,  unless  you  are  sure  he  will 
make  a  good  speech.  Do  not  allow  even  a 
good  speech,  unless  you  can  arrange  it  for  an 
appropriate  moment. 

Second — When  you  see  Mr.  Peripatetic 
Bore  coming  in,  rush  up  to  him,  grasp  him 
by  the  hand,  and  tell  him  you  are  ^o  glad  to 
see  him,  for  you  want  him  to  teach  that  class 
of  small  boys  whose  teacher  is  absent  and  has 
provided  no  substitute.  Now  you  have  him. 
He  don't  like  work.  He  says  he  is  not  pre- 
pared on  the  lesson.  In  vain  you  compli- 
ment him  by  assuring  him  of  your  belief  that 
he  is  always  prepared  on  any  portion  of 
Scripture.  He  finds  that  you  prefer  that  he 
shall  not  make  a  speech.  He  pulls  out  his 
watch  and  extemporizes  an  engagement  which 
he  must  positively  fulfil,  in  fifteen  minutes,  at 
a  school  in  the  next  street.     He  really  cannot 


220  THE    PERIPATETIC    BORE. 


stay.  Try  this  on  him  two  or  three  times, 
and  he  will  weary  you  Avith  his  speeches  no 
more. 

An  uneasy  person  looks  over  my  shoulder 
and  asks,  "Why  do  you  write  that  stuff? 
Why  not  write  something  spiritual,  to  con- 
vert souls  ?  "  To  whom  I  make  answer,  that 
if  we  want  our  Sunday  Schools  spiritualized ; 
if  we  want  to  lead  souls  to  Christ ;  the  surest 
way  of  attaining  our  object,  is  by  confining 
our  schools  to  the  plain  and  earnest  teaching 
•of  gospel  truth,  and  to  that  end  ridding  them 
of  all  such  speech-making  humbugs  as  the 
Peripatetic  Bore. 


CHAPTER    XXXYII, 

The  Apologetic  Speaker. 


'/iV  HIS  orator  begins  by  saying  that  he  posi- 
\llJ  tively  cannot  speak,  owing  to  a  very  bad 
cold  in  his  head,  which  he  caught  a  few  days 
ago  by  imprudently  leaving  off  one  thickness 
of  his  under  garments.  Or,  he  is  a  sufferer 
from  the  aching  nerves  of  a  partially  decayed 
tooth,  which  he  has  allowed  to  remain  in  his 
lower  jaw  longer  than  it  ought  to,  by  reason 
of  not  having  had  time  to  go  to  the  dentist's 
for  the  purpose  of  having  it  rooted  out.  Or, 
he  has  not  fully  recovered  from  the  bruise  on 
his  knee,  which  he  received  when  that  joint 
came  violently  in  contact  with  the  brick  pave- 
ment one  night  last  week,  some  careless  or  de- 
signing person  having  placed  melon  rind  in  a 
spot  on  which  he  could  not  avoid  treading. 
Or,  the  illness  of  his  wife's  cousin   (on  the 


222      THE  APOLOGETIC  SPEAKER. 

mother's  side)  has  so  engrossed  his  attention 
since  the  fourteenth  of  last  month,  that  he 
cannot  collect  his  thoughts.  Or,  he  fears 
(after  promising  to  speak)  that  he  is  not 
the  best  man  whom  the  committee  could 
have  selected  for  this  interesting  occasion, 
and  as  he  sees  around  him  those  who  are 
more  eloquent  than  he,  he  trusts  that  his 
well  known  inability  to  interest  an  audi- 
ence, will  suffice  for  a  reason  why  he  should 
give  place  to  some  of  the  learned  and  gifted 
gentlemen  who  are  present.  Or,  the  pres- 
sure of  business  during  the  past  few  days  has 
been  such  as  never,  in  all  his  business  expe- 
rience, (and  here  he  stops  to  hint  at  what  a 
tremendous  experience  he  has  had) ,  crowded 
on  him  before.  It  has  completely  ovei- 
whelmed  him.  Or — he  is  totally  unprepared. 
The  audience  sympathizes  with  the  afflicted 
person,  and  unanimously  conclude  that  it  is 
unreasonable  to  expect  a  speech  from  a  man 
laboring  under  any  or  all  of  the  above  men- 
tioned  disabilities.      They   wonder   that  his 


THE  APOLOGETIC  SPEAKER.      223 

family  could  have  consented  to  his  leaving 
home  under  the  circumstances ;  and  still 
greater  is  their  surprise  to  see  that  the  com- 
mittee do  Tiot,  on  hearing  his  apologetic 
statements,  at  once  procure  a  comfortable 
hack,  and  hurry  him  to  a  place  of  repose  and 
safety. 

But  he  wants  no  hack.  Instead  of  sitting 
down  when  he  is  done  explaining  that  he 
cannot  speak,  and  why  he  cannot,  he  pushes 
on !  The  sympathy  which  his  hearers  at 
first  felt,  subsides  on  seeing  that  he  does  ac- 
tually get  along.  The  catarrhal  affection  in 
his  head  gives  him  less  trouble  than  he  had 
anticipated.  The  pangs  of  the  aching  ivory 
are  lulled.  Ointment  seems  to  have  been 
suddenly  and  mysteriously  applied  to  the 
battered  knee.  The  wife's  cousin  can  take 
care  of  herself  till  the  speech  is  over.  Plis 
stammering  tongue  moves  with  ease  and  vol- 
ubility which  could  not  have  been  expected 
of  it.  For  one  who  was  so  entirely  without 
preparation,  he  does   manage    to    fill   up   his 


224  THE   APOLOGETIC    SPEAKER. 


allotted  time,  and  generally  somewhat  more ; 
for  when  a  man  begins  with  an  apology,  if 
he  consumes  half  his  time  in  uttering  it,  he 
counts  the  beginning  of  his  speech  at  about 
where  the  apology  ended,  and  so  keeps  on. 

Generally  he  is  as  good  as  his  word,  and  the 
audience  soon  find  him  out,  a] id  wish  they 
had  encouraged  him  to  sit  down,  when  he 
declared  his  inability  to  speak.  His  talk  is 
apt  to  be  a  continuous  string  of  nothings, 
amounting  in  their  total  to  exceedingly  little. 
It  did  certainly  need  some  apology,  if  indeed 
it  ought  to  have  been  spoken  at  all.  It  would 
have  been  better  to  omit  it  altogether.  His 
hearers  grow  weary,  and,  while  they  wish 
him  no  particular  harm,  hope  that  some  of 
his  infirmites  will  interfere  with  his  appear- 
ance in  public,  should  a  future  invitation  be 
extended  to  him. 

Sometimes  it  is  the  case,  however,  that  a 
speaker  who  begins  with  an  apology  makes  a 
really  excellent  speech.  This,  which  is  a  rare 
occurrence,   is   only   an   evidence   that   good 


THE  APOLOGETIC  SPEAKEE.      225 


men  sometimes  do  foolish  tilings.  No  apology 
ever  helps  a  speech.  No  speech  is  as  good 
with  an  apology  at  its  beginning,  as  it  is  if 
the  speaker  plunges  at  once  into  what  he  has 
to  say,  and  says  it  earnestly  and  clearly.  The 
only  w^arrantable  apology  is  in  the  case  of 
the  speaker  of  feeble  voice,  who  consumes 
the  first  five  minutes  of  his  speech  in  building 
the  fire  under  his  boiler  to  get  up  sufficient 
steam  to  enable  his  voice  to  be  heard.  If  we 
must  have  an  apology,  let  us  have  it  then,  for 
nobody  will  lose  anything  by  not  hearing  it. 
The  UTvpre/pared  apologist  is  the  most  ob- 
jectionable. If  he  is  really  unprepared,  as  he 
says,  he  has  no  business  to  make  a  speech. 
If  he  is  prepared,  he  is  guilty  of  doing  some- 
thing naughty,  in  saying  that  he  is  not.  In 
either  case,  he  is  the  man  who  speaks  longer 
than  the  others.  There  is  no  necessity  for 
lifting  the  curtain  and  letting  the  congrega- 
tion into  the  secrets  of  how  you  get  up  your 
speech.  When  you  invite  guests  to  dinner, 
you  do   not  take  them   into    the   kitchen   to 


226  THE  APOLoaETrc  speaker. 


show  tliem  how  the  cookery  was  doue.  And 
if  you  should  serve  up  the  food  raw,  it  would 
be  the  last  thing  of  which  you  would  boast,  or 
even  make  mention.  In  the  event  of  an  emer- 
gency, calling  forth  a  purely  extemporized 
speech,  there  is  no  use  in  telling  your  hearers 
about  it,  for  you  may  be  assured  that  some  of 
them  will  never  find  it  out,  and  those  who  do, 
can  do  so  without  being  publicly  informed  of 
it. 

At  a  rural  anniversary,  a  speaker  rose,  on 
being  introduced  to  the  assembly,  and  with 
serious  face  said,  ""My  friends,  I  regret  to  say 
that  I  feel  sick  at  my  stomach,  and  I  fear  that 
I  shall  not  be  able  to  address  you  on  this  occa- 
sion." He  went  right  on,  however,  the  con- 
gregation looking  for  active  developments  of 
the  disease,  The  over-fed  organ  discontinued 
its  rebellion  against  the  rest  of  the  man's 
system,  and  the  speech  lasted  three-quarters 
of  an  hour.  If  he  felt  unable  to  speak,  he 
should  have  remained  quiet ;  if  able,  there 
was  no  reason  why  he  should  offend  the  good 


THE    APOLOGETIC    SPEAKER.  227 


taste  of  his  hearers  by  saying    exactly  what 
was  the  matter  with  him. 

So  much  for  apologies.  They  are,  at  best, 
useless ;  at  worst,  hypocrisy.  Away  with 
them. 


CHAPTER   XXXYIII. 

The  Untimely  Speaker. 

OME  people  seem  to  have  been  born  at 
the  wrong  time.  Many  an  enthusiastic 
inventor  has  struggled  out  a  life-time  of  pov- 
erty and  disappointment,  because  he  was  born 
a  generation  or  so  before  the  public  were 
ready  to  take  hold  of  his  ideas.  There  are 
sloYv^  persons  who  are  evidently  a  generation 
behind  the  times.  Others  have  entered  the 
world  from  ten  to  fifteen  minutes  too  late,  as 
may  be  seen  by  their  coming  into  church  or 
Sunday  School,  regularly  that  much  after  the 
exercises  have  commenced. 

It  is  uncertain  whether  the  present-  speaker 
was  born  too  late  or  too  early.  He  is  an  un- 
seasonable creature.  His  "  few  remarks"  seem 
always  to  be  launched  just  at  the  time  when 
they  are  most  inappropriate.     He  has  not  the 


TPIE    UNTIMELY    SPEAKEE.  229 


gift  of  saving  the  right  thing  at  the  right 
time.  It  might  be  an  advantage  to  his  hear- 
ers if  he  would  keep  his  thoughts  entirely  to 
himself,  and  a  select  circle  of  his  intimate 
friends  and  admirers.  But  he  will  let  the 
world  have  the  benefit  of  them,  whether  it 
wants  to  hear  or  not.  He  generally  has  a 
hobby.  Sometimes  it  is  a  pet  interpretation 
of  a  passage  of  Scripture,  on  which  he  thinks 
commentators  and  others  have  blundered. 
Sometimes  it  is  the  use  of  tobacco.  Some- 
times it  is  parental  mismanagement.  Some- 
times the  "  inevitable  negro."  And  sometimes 
it  is  almost  nothing  at  all. 

A  meeting  for  prayer  is  held  during  the 
sessions  of  a  religious  assembly ;  let  us  say, 
for  instance,  a  Sunday  School  convention. 
The  ordinary  opening  exercises  have  been  dis- 
posed of.  .  All  are  in  the  spirit  of  j)rayer,  and 
expecting  a  profitable  season.  The  chairman 
announces  that  prayers  or  brief  exhortations 
are  in  order.  Up  jumps  Mr.  Untimely.  He 
proceeds    with  the    information    that   he  has 


230  THE    UNTIMELY   SPEAKER. 


three  sons,  two  nephews,  and  a  cousin,  in  the 
army ;  states  the  regiments  to  which  they 
belong,  the  names  of  the  colonels,  and  the 
dates  of  their  departure  for  the  seat  of  war  •, 
then  tells  that  certain  of  them  have  unfortu- 
nately been  wounded,  and  gives  a  brief  ac- 
count of  the  nature  of  their  wounds  and  the 
battles  in  which  they  were  received.  This 
consuming  nearly  all  of  his  share  of  time,  he 
hastily  winds  up  by  telling  what  a  good  thing 
it  is  to  be  a  prayerful  soldier,  or  to  have  a 
Bible  in  your  pocket  in  case  you  are  hit  by  a 
minie  ball.  He  adds  a  sort  of  postscript  to 
his  remarks,  to  say  that  he  has  at  home  a 
minie  ball  which  went  half  way  through  his 
cousin's  Bible,  and  which  he  will  be  happy 
to  show  to  any  of  the  brethren  w^ho  will  call 
at  his  residence,  number  fifteen  Jeremiah 
street.  The  chairman  would  stop  him,  only 
that  he  has  an  idea  that  each  sentence  of  the 
inappropriate  part,  is  the  last,  and  that  he  is 
rapidly  arriving  at  the  practical  portion  of  his 
exhortation.      If  this  speaker  rises  during  the 


THE    UNTIMELY    SPEAKER,  231 

« 

business  sessions  of  the  convention,  he  is  sure 
to  speak  on  the  wrong  resolution »  or  to  say 
some  unwise  thing  if  he  happens  to  hit  the 
right  one.  The  chairman  kindly  undertakes 
to  put  him  right,  but  he  plods  on,  remaricing 
that  if  that  officer  will  pay  attention,  he  will 
find  that  he  will  presently  come  to  the  point. 
The  point  is  so  pointless,  when  it  is  arrived 
at,  that  nobody  sees  it. 

We  go  to  a  children's  meeting.  Untimely 
has  consented  to  be  one  of  the  speakers.  The 
house  is  full,  principally  of  children,  but  with 
a  sprinkling  of  grown  people.  The  other 
speakers  have  addressed  the  children.  Mr. 
Untimely  thinks  it  w^ould  be  a  shame  to  let 
all  these  fathers,  mothers,  aunts,  and  uncles 
go  without  a  speech  specially  for  them,  and 
so  addresses  all  his  remarks  to  adults,  forget- 
ting the  presence  of  the  very  little  people 
whom  he  was  invited  to  address.  The  re- 
marks may  be  excellent,  but  they  are  thrown 
away.  The  little  folks  take  vengeance  on 
him,  some  by  going  to  sleep,  others  by  mak- 


232  THE    UNTIMELY    SPEAKER. 


iiig  a  disturbance,  for  no  children  need  be  ex- 
pected to  beiiave  themselves  in  a  public  meet- 
ing, unless  they  are  interested  in  what  is  go- 
ing on. 

Another  untimelj^  man  volunteers  a  speech 
at  the  close  of  a  meeting  where  four  or  five 
speakers  have  already  been  heard.  He  thinks 
he  is  full  of  something  to  say.  He  boils  over. 
He  gushes  up  to  the  chairman,  and  says  he 
must  say  a  word  in  conclusion.  Chairman 
uncorks  him,  and  lets  him  proceed.  But  his 
bottle  contains  only  a  few  bubbles  of  enthusi- 
astic froth,  with  some  stupid  common-place 
underneath  it.  The  bottle  has  such  a  long 
and  narrow  neck  that  the  contents,  though 
not  good  for  much,  consume  some  time  in 
getting  out.  The  o\\\j  way  to  quench  him,  is 
to  sing  some  well  knovv-n  hymn,  in  which  all 
can  join. 

One  or  two  ^^  untimely  men  "  can  easily 
spoil  a  prayer-meeting,  a  children's  meeting, 
or,  in  fact,  a  meeting  of  any  kind.  They  soon 
become  known,  in  the  places  which  they  fre- 


THE    UNTIMELY    SPEAKER.  233 


qiient,  and  can  be  avoided.  A  good  chairman 
soon  learns  how  to  look  in  another  part  of  the 
house,  so  as  not  to  see  them  when  they  bounce 
up,  crying,  "Mr.  Charman  !  Mr.  Chaimian! 
just  one  word  on  this  subject,  if  you  please, 
sir." 

The  Untimely  Speaker  is  not  a  hopeless 
nuisance.  He  can,  in  some  instances,  be  re- 
formed, especially  if  he 'is  not  too  old,  or  too 
much  set  in  his  ways.  His  chief  mistakes 
arise  from  the  feeling  that  he  must  make  a 
speech,  coupled  with  partial  or  total  absence 
of  somewhat  to  say.  For  want  of  prepara- 
tion, he  stumbles  into  nonsense.  Or  from 
want  of  appreciation  of  time,  place,  and  cir- 
cumstances, he  wanders  into  something  use- 
less, or  calculated  to  hurt  somebody's  feelings. 
If  some  kind  and  judicious  friend  will  tell 
him  of  his  mistakes,  and  show  him  what  is 
right,  he  may  so  far  reform  as  to  make  a  very 
useful  and  acceptable  speaker.  If  he  refuses 
advice,  and  says  he  knows  so  much  that  he 
cannot  be  improved  on,  drop  him. 


CHAPTER   XXXIX 

The  Ridiculous  Speaker. 

CHE  last  words  of  the  ponderous  address 
of  that  able  man,  the  Eev.  Dr.  Plod, 
have  just  fallen  upon  the  wearied  ears  of  the 
audience.  The  audience  are  glad,  for  Dr. 
Plod  has  been  speaking  for  forty  minutes.  He 
has  been  into  the  depths  of  metaphysical  the- 
ology, and  has  rolled  out  his  weighty  sa3dngs 
with  logical  accuracy,  and  even  with  elegance 
of  diction.  But  it  was  not  possible  for  his 
youthful  hearers  to  understand  one  w^ord  of  it. 
Mr.  Ridiculous  has  been  announced  as  the 
next  speaker.  The  children  know  him,  and 
are  looking  for  some  lively  refreshment  from 
him,  which  they  feel  that  they  deserve,  after 
listening  to  the  stately  utterances  of  Dr.  Plod. 
He  knows,  too,  that  if  that  distinguished  per- 
son were  to  continue  his  address  much  longer, 

224 


THE    RIDICULOUS    SPEAKER.  235 


the  hearers,  great  and  small,  might  be  snor- 
ing. They  need  waking  up.  And  he  will 
wake  them  up.  He  reasons  within  himself, 
"  Old  Plod  couldn't  come  it  over  these  folks  ; 
but  see  me  fetch  them."  And  he  proceeds  to 
"fetch  them." 

The  first  thing  he  does  is  to  make  a  comical 
face  at  the  children.  The  children  at  once 
set  him  down  as  a  superior  man,  for  Dr.  P.'s 
countenance  was  as  unmoved  as  a  mile-stone, 
during  his  speech.  Now  he  is  going  to  inter- 
est them.  They  begin  to  love  him,  and  wish 
he  were  going  to  talk  all  the  time.  He  makes 
another  funny  face,  wiiich  makes  the  youthful 
congregation  laugh.  These  pleasant  smirks 
are  instead  of  the  ordinary  "  introduction " 
with  which  sermons  are  begun. 

The  "  introduction  "  being  over,  he  plunges 
into  the  heads  of  his  subject  —  (if  his  subject 
had  any  heads,  or  if  he  had  any  subject,  it 
would  be  a  good  thing)  —  or,  at  any  rate,  he 
plunges  into  something.  It  is  a  string  of 
funny  nothings,  without  head,  middle,  or  tail. 


236  THE    RIDICULOUS    SPEAKER. 


One  queer  story  succeeds  another,  interspers- 
ed with  pleasant  grimaces,  which  come  as  nat- 
urally and  as  frequently  as  do  the  oaths  with 
which  profane  men  spice  their  conversation. 
It  is  extremely  delightful  to  .the  children,  but 
miserably  unprofitable.  It  is  like  the  elegant 
froth  puddings  which  adorn  hotel  dinner  ta- 
bles ;  fine  to  look  at,  but  poor  stufi"  to  feed 
upon ;  nearly  all  froth,  and  almost  no  pud- 
ding. As  it  would  not  require  a  careful  cal- 
culation to  ascertain  exactly  how  long  it  would 
take  a  man  to  starve  on  such  puddings,  so  we 
might  easily  calculate  how  soon  a  Sunday 
School  would  run  down  if  statedly  fed  on 
such  foolish  nothings  as  the  present  orator 
utters. 

Both  Mr.  Ridiculous  and  Dr.  Plod  are  in 
error,  although  their  errors  are  widely  difier- 
eiit  in  their  character.  Plod  is  as  grave  as  a 
sexton ;  Ridiculous  cannot  help  playing  the 
bufi'oon.  Plod  never  smiles,  while  Ridiculous 
thinks  that  the  chief  excellence  of  speaking 
is  to  keep  the  children  on  a  broad  grin  all  the 


THE   EIDICULOUS   SPEAKEE.  237 


time.  The  Doctor  thinks  it  undignified  to  be 
constantly  using  illustrations,  and  so  entirely 
avoids  them.  The  funny  man  uses  great 
loads  of  them,  but  they  are  only  jokes,  and 
are  not  used  to  illustrate  anything  in  particu- 
lar. Plod  disapproves  of  froth  pudding,  but 
does  not  hesitate  to  ofier  his  young  friends 
stale  sawdust  pie.  The  one  they  cannot  pos- 
sibly swallow  or  digest ;  the  other  they  gulp 
down  in  large  spoonfuls,  but  the  more  they 
get  of  it,  the  poorer  and  thinner  they  become. 
It  is  very  easy  to  make  children  laugh, 
especially  very  young  children.  But  making 
them  laugh  should  not  be  the  chief  object  of 
the  man  Vv^ho  addresses  them  in  Sunday  School. 
If  mirth  is  all  that  is  desired,  it  would  be  well 
to  omit  the  speech  altogether,  and  only  do 
funny  things.  Let  a  funny  person  go  from 
bench  to  bench  in  a  Sunday  School,  and  tickle 
the  children's  noses  with  a  straw,  or  pleasantly 
punch  them  under  the  ribs  with  a  stick,  and 
he  will  have  the  school  in  a  burst  of  cheerful 
merriment  sooner  than  by  delivering  the  very 


238  THE    RIDICULOUS    SPEAKER. 


funniest  address  he  knows.  Perhaps  some- 
body says  this  would  be  a  ridiculous  proceed- 
ing. Not  much  more  ridiculous  than  some 
of  the  buffoon  speeches  which  are  sometimes 
made. 

It  is  not  denied  that  the  Ridiculous  Speaker 
succeeds  in  securing  the  attention  of  the  chil- 
dren. Children  will  give  heed  to  whatever  is 
amusing.  Let  a  man  come  along  with  a  bar- 
rel organ,  and  the  most  entertaining  speaker 
cannot  hold  their  attention.  Let  some  lively 
boy  report  that  there  is  a  monkey  in  attend- 
ance on  that  instrument  of  music,  and  it  takes 
more  than  ordinary  discipline  to  restrain  them 
from  crowdmg  the  doors  and  windows  to  wit- 
ness the  grotesque  performances  of  the  merry- 
making little  beast. 

How  far,  then,  is  it  right  to  be  funny  in 
speaking  to  children?  Very  little,  indeed,  if 
we  want  to  do  them  good.  Some  cheerful 
brother  is  disturbed  at  this,  and  fears  we  are 
taking  the  side  of  Dr.  Plod.  Don't  be  alarmed, 
my  cheerful  friend.     It  is  right  to  flavor  your 


THE    RIDICULOUS    SPEAKER.  239 


speech  with  amusing  remarks,  just  as  you 
put  sugar  in  your  coffee.  A  little  sugar,  if  it 
is  a  good  article  of  sugar,  without  too  much 
sand  in  it,  will  sweeten  a  good-sized  cup  of 
coffee.  If  you  drink  the  (decoction  of  rye, 
chestnuts,  roots,  and  other  stuff  now  generally 
used  for)  coffee,  without  sugar,  it  is  very  dis- 
agreeable. If,  on  the  other  hand,  you  put  too 
much  sugar  in  it,  you  find  a  quantity  of  good- 
for-nothing  sweetening  at  the  bottom  of  the 
cup,  which  the  coffee  w^ould  not  dissolve,  and 
which  is  not  useful,  either  as  coffee,  sugar,  or 
anything  else.  So  must  we  season  our  speech 
with  exactly  the  right  quantity  of  an  excellent 
article  of  mirthfulness.  If  a  good  joke  comes 
in  place  to  point  an  illustration  with,  use  it  by 
all  means,  but  take  care  that  neither  joke  nor 
illustration  are  used  only  for  the  sake  of  say- 
ing something  sharp  or  funny.  If  the  speech 
is  all  joke,  it  is  coffee  with  too  much  sugar. 
If  too  dry  and  solemn,  it  is  coffee  with  the 
sugar  left  out,  and  however  pure  Mocha  it  may 
be,  nobody  wants  it,  or  can  enjoy  it. 


240  THE    RIDICULOUS    SPEAKER. 

While  sweetening  our  speech  with  the  sugar 
of  pleasant  mirthfuhiess,  let  us  also  be  careful 
that  it  be  well  seasoned  with  the  salt  of  divine 
grace.  Otherwise  it  cannot  be  written  of  it, 
"  and  the  speech  pleased  the  Lord." 


CHAPTER  XL. 

In  the  Pulpit. 

fT  is  much  more  the  fashion  now  for  minis- 
ters to  take  some  notice  of  the  children  of 
their  congregation,  than  it  was  a  good  many 
years  ago.  Different  men  have  different  ways 
of  encouraging  their  young  people.  Some  pat 
them  on  the  h&td  or  back ;  some  look  pleas- 
antly at  them  ;  some  come  into  Sunday  School 
and  make  short  or  long  speeches  to  them  ;  and 
some  put  in  every  sermon  a  few  sentences  so 
plain  that  the  children  can  understand  them. 
When  the  children  hear  these  sentences,  they 
feel  that  an  oasis  has  been  arrived  at,  in  the 
midst  of  a  dreary  wilderness  of  sermon  ;  while 
the  plain  words  are  being  uttered,  they  wake 
up,  give  earuest  attention,  and  often  carry 
home  a  thought  or  two  of  what  was  said  for 
them. 


242  IN   THE    PULPIT. 


But  the  prevalent  way  of  manifesting  pas- 
toral interest  in  children,  is  to  give  them,  on 
stated  occasions,  a  special  sermon,  just  for 
themselves.  If  this  is  wisely  done,  it  is  an 
excellent  thino^.  Tfie  children  understand  that 
it  is  their  sermon,  and  that  the  big  folks,  even 
if  they  do  enjoy  a  monoply  of  the  preaching 
at  other  times,  are  now  sitting  under  the 
sound  of  the  gospel  only  by  sufferance.  How 
often  these  juvenile  preachings  are  to  be  had, 
is  regulated  according  to  the  taste  and  con- 
venience of  the  parties  preaching  and  preached 
to. 

It  is  not  equally  convenient  for  all  men  to 
come  down  from  the  stately  step-ladder  of 
adult  sermonizing,  to  the  plain  and  simple 
business  of  dispensing  gospel  milk  to  babes 
in  Christ.  Some,  who  stand  on  the  very  high- 
est step  of  the  ladder,  while  uttering  the  reg- 
ular eloquence  of  the  pulpit,  come  down  a 
step  or  two  with  uncertain  footsteps,  as  if 
they  feared  a  tumble  ;  and  discourse  with  a 
constant  nnrvous  grasp  of  the  topmost  step, 


IN    THE    PUtPIT.  243 


which  renders  their  footing  even  more  uncer- 
tain. Some,  on  the  other  hand,  leap  all  the 
way  down  the  ladder,  and  get  into  the  mud  at 
its  base,  where  they  do  much  floundering 
about,  in  their  efforts  to  be  simple,  and  to 
make  the  children  understand.  Some  men 
seem  to  have  the  faculty  of  adapting  them- 
selves to  children  at  once ;  some  acquire  the 
art,  after  long  and  patient  study  and  practice, 
with  occasionally  an  utter  failure  ;  while  some 
seem  never  to  meet  with  that  success  which 
their  laborious  efforts  deserve. 

A  young  minister,  in  a  town,  no  matter 
where,  filled  his  church  with  children  and 
young  people.  He  made  a  special  business  of 
preaching  to  them  every  Sunday  afternoon, 
attending  more  particularly  to  the  grown 
people  in  the  morning.  The  effects  were  vis- 
ible on  the  church  of  another  denomination, 
on  the  opposite  corner.  The  pastor  of  this 
church  was  a  man  of  middle  age,  a  very  giant 
in  controversial  theology,  and  who  preached 
able,  powerful,  and  very  deejp  sermons.     He 


244  IN   THE   PULPIT. 


and  his  people  were  distressed  that  all  the 
young  folks  should  take  such  a  fancy  to  the 
preaching  of  the  heterodox  little  man  over  the 
way.  They  consulted  over  a  plan  to  bring 
back  the  wandering  lambs  of  the  flock,  and 
concluded  that  if  their  pastor  would  preach  a 
course  of  afternoon  sermons  to  children,  it 
would  be  just  the  thing.  The  little  man 
feared,  when  he  heard  it  announced,  that  all 
his  young  hearers  would  go  to  hear  the  doctor 
of  divinity.  And  his  audience  was  indeed  slim, 
the  first  day  that  the  learned  man  preached. 
The  next  Sabbath,  the  great  man  had  a  very 
thin  house,  while  the  junior  preacher  again 
had  a  full  attendance.  The  secret  of  the  mat- 
ter was,  that  the  young  man  knew  how  to 
preach  to  children,  while  the  other  did  not. 

Children  do  not  so  naturally  take  to  hearing 
sermons,  as  to  rush  in  great  crowds  whenever 
and  wherever  it  is  announced  that  a  sermon 
will  be  delivered.  On  the  contrar}^  the  very 
name  of  sermon  is  such  a  bugbear  with  many 
young  persons,  that  they  will  devise  almost 


IN    THE    PULPIT.  245 


any  excuse  rather  than  go  to  hear  preaching. 
It  is  therefore  necessary  to  hold  out  some  ex- 
traordinary inducement  to  them,  in  order  to 
make  them  come  and  listen.  Making  them 
come  is  one  business ;  making  them  listen,  so 
as  to  carry  away  some  good  of  the  discourse, 
is  another.  You  may  drive  the  children  into 
church,  as  pigs  are  driven  into  a  pen,  but  it 
does  not  follow  that  the  preaching  will  bene- 
fit them,  only  because  you  watched  them  so 
sharply  that  not  a  single  boy  got  a  chance  to 
slip  off.  Unwilling  hearers  are  very  hard 
hearers  to  preach  to.  If  the  child  has  the 
sulks  because  he  was  sent  to  church,  he  will 
not  carry  home  a  pleasant  impression  of  the 
sermon,  even  if  it  was  the  best  that  could  be 
delivered. 

How,  then,  shall  we  make  them  come  and 
listen  ?  Simply  by  making  the  sermon  as  at- 
tractive as  possible.  Grown  people  may 
come,  from  a  stern  sense  of  duty,  to  listen  to 
sermons  which  are  as  dry  as  census  reports. 
Children  will  run  away  from  such  unpalatable 


246  m   THE    PULPIT. 

repast.  But  if  you  take  the  census  report 
and  change  its  tabular  statistics  into  language 
of  the  style  of  Peter  Parley's  geography,  inter- 
spersed with  an  occasional  bit  of  poetry  and 
a  few  pictures,  the  children  will  devour  it,  and 
cry  for  more.  So  with  the  most  solid  theolo- 
gy. Children  might  just  as  well  learn  it  as 
not.  They  can  be  told  of  every  attribute  of 
God,  and  of  God's  purposes,  and  the  wonders 
of  his  grace  in  Jesus  Christ,  far  easier  in  sim- 
ple language  than  in  profound  theologic  for- 
mula. The  sermon  must  be  preached  in 
language  that  they  can  understand,  full  of  the 
right  kind  of  illustrations,  and  must  be  deliv- 
ered in  such  a  way  as  to  secure  the  steadfast 
attention  of  every  child  in  the  audience.  Then 
the  children  will  all  come,  bring  their  friends, 
and  children  and  friends  together  will  go 
home  profited  as  well  as  interested. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  talk  nonsense  to 
children  in  order  to  secure  their  attention. 
Whatever  admiration  we  may  have  for  Mother 
Goose  in  the  nursery,  let  us  not  make  geese 


IN   THE    PULPIT.  247 

of  ourselves  by  introducing  her  into  the  Sun- 
day School  or  the  pulpit. 

The  sermon  should  be  short.  If  it  is  over 
half  an  hour,  the  children  will  forget  the  most 
of  it.  The  other  services  should  be  appropri- 
ate to  the  occasion.  The  prayers  may  well 
be  shorter  than  usual ;  two  short  prayers  will 
be  better  than  one  long  one.  Never  neglect 
reading  the  Bible  on  any  preaching  occasion, 
great  or  small.  Sing  plenty  of  hymns,  and 
sing  them  well.  The  "  childrens'  day,"  will 
then  be  one  of  the  most  pleasant  of  all  religious 
exercises,  and  even  the  grown  people  will 
come  to  hear  what  it  is  that  the  children  listen 
to,  and  perhaps  to  be  profited  by  the  absence 
of  that  stateliness  with  which  the  gospel  is 
sometimes  dealt  out  to  them. 


CHAPTEE  XLI. 

The  Truly  Eloquent  Speaker. 

^*^HE  literal  meaning  of  the  word  eloquence, 
^l\J  is  speaking  out.  The  truly  eloquent 
speaker,  then,  is  the  man  who  brings  out 
what  he  has  to  say,  in  such  a  way  that  his 
hearers,  great  or  small,  may  take  hold  of  it, 
and  appropriate  to  themselves  the  good  that 
is  contained  in  it. 

Two  things  are  necessary  in  order  that 
speech  may  be  eloquent ;  first,  that  there  be 
something  in  the  speaker,  which  can  be 
brought  out ;  secondly,  that  it  be  brought  out 
in  such  a  way  that  it  shall  be  good  for  some- 
thing when  it  is  out. 

The  mighty  guns,  which  do  the  heavy  shoot- 
ing from  our  iron-clads,  are  very  harmless 
thinofs  when  there  is  no  load  in  them.  The 
enemy  may  come  directly  under  their  muzzles, 


THE    TRULY   ELOQUENT   SPEAKER.        249 

and  go  away  in  perfect  security.  They  may 
even  shake  their  fists  at  tlie  guns,  kick  them, 
or^ut  their  heads  into  the  capacious  bores,  as 
the  menagerie  man  thrusts  his  head  between 
the  gaping  jaws  of  a  tame  old  lion,  and  re- 
main uninjured.  But  let  the  great  gun  be 
loaded,  and  a  gunner  with  lighted  match,  stand 
at  the  touch-hole,  and  everybody  knows  what 
may  be  expected.  Let  the  worn-out  old  lion 
be  suddenly  restored  to  his  original  savage 
vigor,  and  loaded  up  with  the  juvenile  energy 
which  he  used  ta  have  when  he  was  a  little 
lion,  living  in  a  jungle,  and  he  will  perform 
such  a  crack  of  the  jaws  as  will  leave  the 
headless  trunk  of  the  late  menagerie  man  a 
witness  to  the  recklessness  of  its  owner. 

But  it  is  important  that  the  gun  be  rightly 
loaded,  and  with  the  proper  material.  You 
may  stuff  a  fifteen-inch  Dahlgren  up  to  the 
muzzle  with  snow,  and  no  startling  effects 
will  be  produced.  You  may  load  with  solid 
shot,  but  if  the  solid  shot  have  no  gunpowder 
behind  it,  the  getting  of  it  out  again  will  be  a 


250        THE    TRULY   ELOQUENT    SPEAKER. 


difficult  job.  If  the  solid  shot  is  an  imper- 
fect one,  the  probability  is  that  it  will  go  spin- 
ning over  the  country  in  a  vagrant  fashion,  in- 
stead of  going  directly  against  what  it  was 
intended  to  hit.  Load  with  a  shell,  such  as 
some  rebel  sympathizers,  in  one  of  our  navy- 
yards,  filled  with  saw-dust  instead  of  the  ex- 
plosive things  with  which  shells  are  expected 
to  be  filled,  and  the  result  is  the  same  as  if 
you  fired  iron  kettles  or  tin  pans  at  the 
enemy. 

So  much  for  what  is  put -in  the  gun.  N"ow 
about  getting  it  out,  so  as  to  accomplish 
something  with  it. 

A  good  gunner  is  ]oarticular  about  sighting 
his  gun,  and  aiming  it,  so  as  to  carry  the  mis- 
sile which  it  contains  exactly  to  the  right  spot. 
It  must  not  be  pointed  too  high  or  too  low, 
or  too  much  on  either  side.  He  must  have 
the  apparatus  with  which  he  touches  it  oiF,  in 
good  order,  and  must  apply  it  just  at  the 
right  time.  If  he  is  firing  shell,  he  must  have 
the  fuse  so  arranged  that  the  explosion  will 


THE    TRULY   ELOQUENT    SPEAKER.       251 

take  place  at  the  right  moment  of  tune.  Oth- 
erwise all  his  gunnery  goes  for  nothing. 

As  with  firing  guns,  so  with  making  speech- 
es. The  eloquent^  man  does  not  come  to  the 
platform  unloaded,  and  trusting  to  the  force 
of  circumstances  to  put  a  load  into  him.  He 
is  careful,  before  commencing  his  speech,  to 
prepare  his  material ;  to  have  it  of  the  right 
kind,  and  to  pack  it  in  the  very  best  way  for 
getting  it  out  efiectively.  There  is  no  danger 
that  he  will  merely  make  a  gunpowder  flash, 
and  be  done.  Mr.  Empty  sometimes  makes 
a  flash  with  startling  efiect,  and  some  of  the 
people  think  it  is  very  fine.  But  it  amounts 
to  nothing.  The  eloquent  speaker  does  not 
stufi"  himself  up  with  apologies,  coughs,  and 
clearings  of  the  throat,  silly  jokes,  or  long- 
winded  and  pointless  stories,  all  of  which 
things  unhappily  constitute  the  stock  in  trade 
of  many  orators  who  stand  before  children. 

So  he  is  ready  to  fire  off"  his  load.  There 
is  a  science  in  doing  it  rightly.  It  is  not 
everybody  who  is  even  crammed  with  knowl- 


252        THE    TRULY   ELOQUENT   SI'EAKER. 

edge  of  the  finest  kind,  that  can  make  that 
knowledge  available  to  youthful  hearers.  Mr. 
Slow  goes  to  school  all  the  period  of  his  boy- 
hood, then  to  college  for  four  years,  and  to 
theological  seminary  for  three  more  ;  and  yet 
the  children  of  other  people  whom  he  tries  to 
address,  suspect  him  of  being  a  great  booby. 
Plenty  of  learning  has  been  crammed  into  the 
man,  but  it  stuck  fast,  and  there  is  no  getting 
it  out.  Mr.  Poke  is  exceedingly  wise,  and 
writes  for  the  Journal  of  Science ;  but  Avhen 
he  addresses  people,  he  puts  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  stands  on  one  leg,  and  hesitates  and 
stammers,  till  his  sleepy  audience  are  ready 
to  exchange  him  for  any  person,  even  of  lim- 
ited attainments,  who  will  interest  them,  and 
wake  them  up.  The  eloquent  man  begins  in 
earnest,  continues  in  earnest,  and  stops  when 
he  is  done.  He  keeps  his  audience  awake  all 
the  time.  They  stay  awake  because  they  are 
interested.  Being  interested,  they  are  apt  to 
be  instructed  and  profitted.  The  word  which 
is  aimed  directly  at  them,  goes  home  to  their 
hearts,  and  does  them  good. 


THE  TEULY  ELOQUENT  SPEAKER.   253 


Some  people  suppose  that  there  is  some 
mysterious  secret  about  success  in  addressing 
children.  This  is  a  mistake.  The  only  sci- 
ence in  it,  is  the  science  of  being  perfectly 
natural,  simple,  and  straight-forward.  There 
is  no  use  of  usinsf  lon£>'  or  bombastic  words  to 
children,  when  short  and  easy  ones  will 
answer.  Admit  that  children  can  and  do  use 
and  understand  such  long  words  as  thermome- 
ter, water-melon,  and  the  like ;  is  there  any 
use  in  saying  empyrean,  when  we  mean  shy? 
When  we  wish  to  tell  them  that  something  is 
very  had,  is  it  necessary  to  say  that  it  is  over- 
whehningly  heinous?  If  we  do  use  such  ex- 
pressions, the  children  will  be  hopelessly  con- 
fused, and  will  not  remember  even  enough  to 
ask  their  parents  at  home  what  all  these  wise 
things  mean.  Some  kind  people  y^j  say 
that  these  examples  are  extreme  cases  ;  ])ut  if 
they  will  listen  with  pencil  and  paper  in  hand, 
to  many  a  Sunday  School  speech,  they  will 
hear  words  as  striking  as  these.  I  heard  a 
man  who  took  for  a  text,   in  speaking  to  his 


254    THE  TRULY  ELOQUENT  SPEAKER. 


Sunday  School,  the  word  "  Sin."  Surely  short 
enough.  But  he  actually  went  on  to  talk  to 
them  of  the  "  overwhelming  heinousness  "  of 
sin  !  It  would  have  been  an  interesting  ex- 
perin\ent  to  examine  the  children  on  their 
views  of  sin,  after  the  discourse  was  over.  I 
heard  iinother  man,  on  another  occasion,  tell- 
ing a  church  full  of  children,  some  long  stuff 
about  being  "  potentially  saved  !  " 

It  is  not  necessary,  on  the  other  hand,  to 
descend,  as  some  infantile  reading  books  do, 
to  words  of  onl}^  three  letters.  This  is  incon- 
sistent with  true  eloquence. 

If  we  had  more  humility,  and  more  of  the 
child-like  simplicity  of  the  gospel,  we  would 
succeed  better  in  intere~sting  and  instructing 
the  little  people  who  are  placed  under  our 
care. 


CHAPTEE   XLII. 

*^And  the  Speech  pleased  the  Lord."   1  Kings  3:  10. 


'/'i  HIS  is  the  sum  of  the  whole  matter  This 
vJy  is  the  true  test  of  the  excellence  of  every 
address  that  is  made,  whether  to  young  per- 
sons or  to  adults.  If  the  speech  is  acceptable 
to  God,  he  follows  it  with  his  blessing.  If  it 
is  not  well  pleasing  in  his  sight,  it  is  of  no 
use,  however  much  the  congregation  to  whom 
it  Avas  addressed  may  be  delighted  with  it. 

It  is  the  custom,  however,  to  measure  the 
excellence  of  speakers  and  their  speeches  by 
a  much  lower  test.  Instead  of  asking  whether 
the  speech,  discourse,  or  sermon  was  accepta- 
ble to  God,  the  common  question  is,  "  How 
did  the  people  like  it  ?  "  or,  "  Does  he  draw  a 
full  house?"  Instead  of  asking  if  it  was  cal- 
culated to  do  good,  the  inquiry  is  often  made,. 
"  Did  he  tell  any  stories  ?  "  or,  "  Did  he  say 

25  5 


256  AND    THE    SPEECH 


anything  funny  ? "  As  manufacturers  con- 
sult the  tastes  and  wishes  of  the  people  to 
whom  they  expect  to  sell  their  goods,  so  as  to 
find  a  ready  market  for  them  when  they  are 
made,  it  is  not  surprising  that  many  speakers 
and  preachers  of  the  Word,  are  led  to  give  the 
people  what  they  see  that  the  people  want. 
And  the  peoples'  wants  vary  from  time  to 
time.  Although  the  demand  for  change  of 
style  in  public  addresses  is  hardly  as  capri- 
cious as  that  for  change  in  style  of  bonnets  or 
coats,  yet  there  is  continual  change.  Our 
forefathers  would  sit  on  oaken  benches,  in 
houses  of  worship  in  wliich  it  was  thought 
sinful  to  erect  stoves,  even  in  the  coldest 
w^eather ;  two  weary  hours  would  be  spent  in 
giving  heed  to  a  discourse,  often  as  dry  as  it 
was  long.  Things  have  changed.  A  dis- 
course of  that  length  is  now  cut  into  about 
three,  and  given  to  the  hearers  in  such  sizes 
and  shapes  as  can  be  more  readily  taken  in. 
Instead  of  the  frigidity  and  oaken  hardness  of 
the  surroundings  of  worship,  it  is  the  fashion 


PLEASED   THE   LOED.  257 


to  sit  on  cushioned  seats,  with  comfortable 
backs.  The  demand  which  probably  existed 
in  those  days  for  dullness  in  style  and  matter, 
has  perceptibly  abated.  If  a  speaker  were 
to  rise,  after  the  manner  of  the  forefather 
preachers,  and  tell  us  that  he  would  now 
proceed  to  treat  his  subject  by  dividing  it 
into  six  heads,  each  of  which  heads  would 
be  sub-divided  into  four  particulars,  and 
each  particular  again  divided  into  subordinate 
heads,  numbered  firstly,  secondly,  and  third- 
ly ;  if  said  preacher  were  then  to  go  on  to  do 
all  this,  what  a  surprising  effect  would  be  pro- 
duced on  a  congregation  of  worshippers  in  this 
fast  age  of  smart  speakers,  cushioned  benches, 
and  warmed  meeting  houses.  And  if  one 
of  the  sensation  speakers  of  modern  times  had 
stood  before  a  Massachusetts  congregation 
of  1663,  his  hearers  would  have  been  startled 
out  of  their  propriety,  and  would  have  won- 
dered what  the  man  was  about.  It  would  be 
an  interesting  subject  for  discussion,  which 
sort  of  discourse  is  most  acceptable  to  God ; 


258  AND   THE   SPEECH 


for,  strange  as  the  olden  time  sermon  may- 
seem  to  us,  we  cannot  deny  that  some  of  our 
forefathers  attained  a  degree  of  godliness, 
which,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  is  not  surpassed 
by  the  hearers  of  modern  preaching  and 
speaking. 

It  is  not,  then,  only  the  style  and  matter  of 
the  speech  that  concerns  its  usefulness  or  ex- 
cellence. There  is  something  behind  the 
words  we  say  which  is  even  more  important 
than  the  discourse  itself;  though  the  congre- 
gation may  not  be  able  to  perceive  it,  or  to 
judge  of  its  quality  if  they  do.  "  Let  the 
words  of  my  mouth,  and  the  meditation  of  my 
heart,  be  acceptable  in  thy  sight,  O,  Lord,  my 
strength  and  my  Redeemer."  What  is  in  our 
heart  controls  and  regulates  that  which  we 
utter.  It  may  be  high-sounding  eloquence  to 
the  ears  of  those  who  hear ;  if  it  come  not 
from  the  heart,  it  is  as  empty  froth.  It  may 
not  specially  tickle  the  ear,  or  please  the  fan- 
cy, and  yet,  if  its  motive  is  good,  God  accepts 
it,  and  blesses  it  both  to  hearers  and  speaker. 


PLEASED   THE   LORD.  259 

The  great  duty  in  preparing  and  deliver- 
ing a  discourse  of  any  kind,  from  an  infant- 
school  talk  to  a  sermon,  is  to  see  that  our 
hearts  are  right  in  the  sight  of  God  ;  that  what 
we  select  to  say  is  that  which  will  honor  God  ; 
that  we  may  say  just  those  things  which  will 
lead  our  hearers  »to  increased  godliness ;  and 
that  we  speak  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  them 
hear  and  remember ;  for  if  what  we  say  is 
God's  message,  we  have  no  right  to  deliver  it 
in  such  a  way  as  to  produce  no  impression. 

We  serve  a  just  God.  He  is  not  a  hard 
master.  He  puts  upon  us  no  more  task  than 
we  can  accomplish,  but  he  expects  us  to  do 
our  work  well.  He  gives  us  material  and 
tools,  and  expects  us  to  use  our  material  to  the 
best  advantage,  and  to  keep  our  tools  in  excel- 
lent order.  He  gives  us  his  message  to  deliver 
to  our  perishing  fellow  sinners.  It  does  not 
please  him  if  we  give  them  something  else 
instead  of  it.  It  does  not  please  him  if  we 
mangle  the  message,  so  that  they  cannot  un- 
derstand it,  or  tell  it  in  such  a  stupid  way 
that  they  go  to  sleep  instead  of  listening  to  it. 


260        THE  SPEECH  PLEASED  THE  LORD. 


It  is  no  light  business  to  give  the  word  of 
eternal  life  to  our  fellow  creatures,  even 
though  they  be  little  children.  There  is  a 
weighty  responsibility  assumed  with  every 
speech  that  is  delivered.  Let  us  seek  to  bear 
this  responsibility  worthily,  "  not  handling 
the  word  of  God  deceitfully ;  but,  by  mani- 
festations of  the  truth,  commending  ourselves 
to  every  man's  conscience  in  the  sight  of  God." 
So,  when  we  speak,  we  shall  speak  the  words 
of  wisdom,  and  speak  them  wisely,  and,  even 
though  we  may  not  so  much  delight  the  itch- 
ing ears  of  those  who  seek  only  amusement 
and  entertainment,  we  will  have  the  better 
record  on  high,  ^*  And  the  speech  pleased  the 
Lord.'' 


CATALOGUE  OF  BOOKS 

PUBLISHED  AND  FOR  BALE  BY 

HENKY     HOYT. 

Ko.  9  Cornhill,  Bo:$ton. 


PICTORIAL  CONCORDANCE  of  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, with  Chronological  Tables,  etc.  By  Rev. 
John  Brown 100 

MILLENNIAL  EXPERIENCE,  or  the  Will  of  God 
known  and  done  from  moment  to  moment.  Illus- 
trated from  the  Bible  and  the  lives  of  eminent 
Christians 1  25 

THE  HIGHER  CHRISTIAN  LIFE.  A  volume  of  re- 
ligious experience.  Illustrated  by  sketches  from 
history  and  fromlife 1  25 

THE  HARVEST  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT, 
Illustrated  in  the  Evangelist  Labors  of  Rev,  Edw. 
Payson  Hammond,  in  Great  Britain  and  Amer- 
ica.    By  Rev.  P.  C.  Headley 100 


CATALOGUE  OF  BOOKS. 


SONGS,  for  Social  and  Public  Worship  ;  containing 
over  300  choice  tunes,  and  1039  hymns — the  best 
work  extant - 1  00 

THE  STORY  OF  A  POCKET  BIBLE.  An  autobio- 
graphy of  the  book  itself,  with  ten  splendid  Illus- 
trations      95 

THE  OLD  RED  HOUSE.  By  the  author  of  Capt. 
Russel's  Watchword,  Ellen  Dacre,  etc.  One  of  the 
ablest  productions  of  this  popular  writer.    Illust.    95 

BERNICE,  The  Farmer's  Daughter 85 

THE  MODEL  MOTHER,  Or,  The  Mother's  Mis- 
sion. A  Narrative  Work  of  uncommon  interest 
and  power.    12mo     Illustrated. 80 

ONLY  A  PAUPER.      A  work  of  graphic  interest. 

Illustrated 80 

OPPOSITE  THE  JAIL.     By  the  author  of  the  Child 

Angel,  etc.     A  narrative  work  of  great  power  and 

interest.     12mo.     Illustrated 80 

PALISSY,  THE  HUGUENOT  POTTER.    A  Historic 

Tale.     12mo.    Illustrated 80 

CAPT.  RUSSEL'S  WATCHWORD.      Combining  rar» 

elements  of  interest  and  power.      A  book  for  boys. 

Fully  illustrated.     12mo 80 

STRAIGHT  FORWARD,  or  Walking  in  the  Light. 
By  Lucy  E.  Guernsey,  author  of  Irish  Amy,  Ready 
Work,  etc.      Illustrated - 80 


CATALOGUE  OF  BOOKS.  3 

WORKING  AND  WINNING,  or  the  Deaf  Boy's 
Triumph 80 

CLIMBING  THE  MOUNTAIN,  or  how  I  rose  in  the 
world.  By  the  author  of  Old  Bed  House,  Capt. 
Russel's  Watchword,  Ellen  Dacre,  etc.  Illustrated.    80 

ELLEN  DACRE,  or  Life  at  Aunt  Hester's.  By  the 
author  of  Capt.  Russel's  Watchword.    Fully  illust.    80 

SEQUEL  TO  TIxM,  THE  SCISSORS-GRINDER.  By 
Mrs.  Madeline  Leslie.      Beautifully  illustrated 80 

TALES  FROM  THE  BIBLE.  First  Series.  By  Rev, 
Wm.  M.  Thayer,  author  of  Poor  House  to  the  Pul- 
pit, Poor  Boy  and  Merchant  Prince.  Beautifully 
illustrated 80 

THE  LOST  WILL.  By  Mrs.  A.  E.  Porter.  This  work 
had  its  origin  in  facts  which  took  place  in  New 
England.      Illustrated 80 

NOONDAY.  By  the  author  of  Capt.  Russel's  Watch- 
word, and  the  Old  Red  House 75 

TIM  THE  SCISSOR-GRINDER,  or  Loving  Christ 
and  Serving  Him.      Illustrated 75 

PIETY  AND  PRIDE.    An  historic  tale.    Illustrated.     75 

WILL  COLLINS,  or  the  Way  to  the  Pit.  By  Miss 
H.  B.  McKeever,  author  of  Edith's  Ministry,  Sun- 
shine, etc.    Illustrated 75 

'the  ORGAN  GRINDER,  or  Struggles   after  Holi- 
•    ness.     By  Mrs.  Madeline  Leslie,  author  of  Tim  the 
Scissors-Grinder,  Sequel  to  Tim,  &c.     Illustrated.    75 


CATALOGUE  OF  BOOKS. 


THE  SOLDIER'S  RETURN.    Illus 70 

ANTOINETTE.  The  original  of  the  Child  Angel. 
By  the  author  of  Opposite  the  Jail.    Illustrated ...     75 

THE  DRUNKARD'S  DAUGHTER.  By  the  author 
of  Ellen  Dacre,  Capt.  Russel's  Watchword,  Old 
Red  House,  Blind  Ethan,  etc. ,   Illustrated 70 

LELIA  AMONG  THE  MOUNTAINS.  A  splendid 
Juvenile,  with  ninety-four  illustrations 65 

DAISEY  DEANE.    By  the  author  of  Grace  Hale   Il- 
lustrated      65 

GUYON'S  LETTERS.  Translated  by  Mrs.  Prof. 
Upham.     16mo.    Illust 60 

THE  FLOUNCED  ROBE  AND  WHAT  IT  COST. 
By  Miss  H.  B.  McKeever,  authoress  of  Will  Col- 
lins, etc.  A  book  of  surpassing  interest  and  power. 
12mo.     184pp.     Illust.... 60 

THE  LITTLE  MOUNTAIN  GUIDE,  or  How  to  be 
Happy.     18mo.      Illustrated 50  | 

THE  GOLDEN  MUSHROOM.     By  the  author  of  the  I 

Watercress  Sellers.    Illustrated 50  j 

THE  SUNBEAM,  and  other  Stories.      Beautifully  11-  | 

lustrated 50 

UNCLE  JABEZ,  or  the  History  of  a  Man  whose  Boy- 
hood was  spent  in  the  School  of  Adversity.  Six 
illustrations 5% 

HANNAH  LEE,  or  Walking  in  the  Light.  Illust. . . .     50 


CATALOGUE  OF  BOOKS. 


LIEUTENANT  MESSINGER.    Illus 50 

LITTLE  ONES  IN  THE  FOLD.    By  Rev.  Edward 

Payson  Hammond. 50 

SIMILITUDES.     By  Miss  Lucy  Larcom,  a  writer  of 

rare  excellence.    Illustrated 50 

THE    CONQUERED   HEART.      By  the  author  of 

Hemlock  Ridge,  Robert  Walton,  etc.    Illustrated.. .  45 

JOHNNY  McKAY,  or  the  Sovereign.  18mo.  Illust.  45 
SOPHIE  DE  BRENTZ,  or  the  Sword  of  Truth.     By 

the  author  of  Hillside  Farm.     Illust 45 

LITTLE  MAY,  or  of  What  Use  am  I?    Illustrated.  45 

ROBERT  WALTON,  or  the  Great  Idea.    Illustrated.  45 

THE    FACTORY  GIRLS.      A  touching   narrative. 

Fully  illustrated 45 

MOORCROFT  HATCH.    By  A.  L.  0.  E. ,  one  of  the 

most  gifted  writers  of  the  age 45 

PETE,  THE  GUNNER  BOY.  By  Grandmother  Hope. 

Illustrated 45 

CHARLEY  ADAMS,  the  Morning  Laborer.  Illus.  40 
THE  BEGGAR'S  CLOSET,  and  What  it  Contained. 

Illustrated 40 

ADDIE  ANSLEY,  or  How  to  Make  Others  Happy.  A 
charming  juvenile.      Illust 40 

HILLSIDE  FARM,  or  Home  Influences  Illustrated. 
A  book  for  the  family.     Illus 40 


CATALOGUE  OF  BOOKS. 


THE  FAITHFUL  PROMISER,  in- large  type.  A  de- 
Yotional  work  of  great  excellence 40 

GRACE  HALE.     A  book  for  girls.   Fully  illustrated    40 

HEMLOCK  RIDGE,  or  only  Dan.  White's  Son.  18mo 
Illustrated 40 

MACKEREL  WILL,  The  Thieving  Fisher-boy.  lUus.    40 
THE  BOUND  BOY.     By  the  author  of  Tim,  Sequel 
to  Tim,  Prairie  Flower,  etc.     Illus 40 

THE  BOUND  GIRL.  By  Mrs.  Madeline  Leslie, 
author  of  Tim,  etc.    Illus 40 

VIRGINIA,  OR  THE  POWER  OF  GRACE.  A  touch- 
ing narrative  of  a  friendless  orphan  rescued  from 
the  streets  of  New  York.  By  the  author  of  Tim. 
Illus 40 

JOE  CARTON,  or  the  Lost  Key.  A  book  for  boys. 
Illus 35 

ROSE  COTTAGE.    A  beautiful  juvenile.      Illus. ...     35 

MILES  LAWSON,  or  the  Yews.    Illus 35 

ROSE  DARLING,  or  the  Path  of  Truth.  By  the 
author  of  Joe  Carton,  Hop-Pickers,  etc.  Beauti- 
fully illustrated 35 

HENRY  MINTURN,  or  my  Dark  Days.  Beautifully 
written  and  fully  illustrated 35 

MATTY  FROST.  A  story  for  girls.  By  the  author 
of  Grace  Hale,  Carrie  Allison,  Our  Father's  House, 
etc.     Illus 35 


CATALOGUE  OF  BOOKS. 


LITTLE  APPLE  BLOSSOM.  By  the  author  of  Car 
rie  Allison,  &c.     Illus 35 

HENRY  LANGDON.  By  Louisa  Payson  Hopkins. 
Illus 35 

THE  PRAIRIE  FLOWER.  By  the  author  of  Tim, 
the  Scissors-Grinder.  A  narrative  of  the  tenderest 
interest.    Illust 35 

PLEASANT  SURPRISES.  A  charming  juvenile. 
Illustrated o...     35 

THE  LITTLE  DRUMMER  BOY.  The  Child  of  the 
Thirteenth  Regiment  N.  Y.  S.  M.  :  his  character  as 
a  Christian  boy,  and  untimely  death.    Illus 35 

STELLA,  OR  THE  PATHWAY  HEAVENWARD. 
By  the  author  of  Opposite  the  Jail,  Young  Sergeant, 
etc.    Illus 30 

SUNDAY  SCHOOL  SPEAKER,  or.  Children's  Con- 
cert. Twelve  numbers— one  for  every  month. 
Each ^....     30 

PAPA'S  LITTLE  SOLDIERS.  By  C.  E.  K  ,  author 
of  Grace  Hale,  Conquered  Heart,  Daisey  Deane,  etc. 
Illus 30 

CARRIE  ALLISON,  or  in  the  Vineyard.  By  the 
author  of  Grace  Hale 30 

WHr  THE  MILL  WAS  STOPPED,  or  Overcoming 
Evil  with  Good.     Illus 30 

FRANK  TALBOT,  or  Unstable  as  Water.    Illus 30 

GEORGE  ROWLAND,  The  Servant  Boy.     Illus-.      30 


8  CATALOGUE  OF  BOOKS. 

THE  PARISH  HALL,  and  What  Was   Done  There. 

Fully  illustrated 30 

GRANDMOTHER  TRUE,  or  When  I  was  a  Little 

Girl.    Illus 30 

TEDDY  WHITE,  or  the  little  Orange  Sellers.  Illus..  30 
OUR  DEAR  EDDIE.     A  rare  example  of  piety  in  a 

Sabbath  School  Scholar.    Illus 30 

LOSS  OF  THE  SHIP  KENT,  by  Fire.  A  work  of 
thrilling  interest.    Illus •• 30 

THE  YOUNG  MILLINERS.     A  book  for  girls.  Illus.    30 

THE  POWER  OF  FAITH.    A  narrative  of  Sarah 

Jordan.    Illus 30 

THE  YOUNG  HOP-PICKERS.      By  the  author  of 

Matty  Gregg.      Illus 30 

TAKING  A  STAND.  By  Mrs.  H.  C.  Knight,  author 
of  Hugh  Fisher,  etc.    A  book  for  boys,   and  all 

others  who  tamper  with  Strong  Drink.     Illus 30 

OUR  FATHER'S  HOUSE.  A  sweet  juvenile.  Illus.  30 
ANNIE  LYON,  or  the  Secret  of  a  Happy  Home.  Illus  30 
SOWING  AND  REAPING.  A  book  for  boys.  Illus.  30 
THE  GOLD  DIGGER.     What  he  lost  and  what  he 

failed  to  realize.    Illus 30 

THE  YOUNG  SERGEANT,  or  the  Triumphant 
Soldier.  By  the  author  of  Opposite  the  Jail, 
Antoinette,  etc 30 


CATALOGUE  OF  BOOKS. 


ALICE  HAVEN.    A  book  for  girls.      By  the  author 

of  Grace  Hale,  Carrie  Allison,  etc.    Illus 30 

THE  TELESCOPE.    An  Allegory.    Filled  with  Bible 

truth,  and  clothed  in  beautiful  imagery,     Tllus 25 

LEONARD  DOBBIN,  or  the  One  Moss  Rose.  Illus..  25 
KITTY'S  KNITTING-NEEDLES.     A  book  for  girls. 

Illus 25 

THE  FOX  HUNTER.    A  work  of  unspeakable  value 

to  disciples.    By  Dr.  Malan 25 

NED,  THE  SHEPHERD  BOY,  changed  to  the  Young 

Christian.     Illus 25 

WILLIE  AND  CHARLIE,  or  ihe  Way  to  be  happy. 

Illus 25 

JANE  THORNE,  or  the  Head  and  the  Heart.  Illus..  25 
JENNIE  CARTER,  or  Trust  in  God.    By  Catherine 

D.Bell.    Illus 25 

PHILIP  AND  BESSIE,  or  Wisdom's  Way.  Illus.. . .  25 
THE  SABBATH  SCHOOL  CONCERT,  or  Children's 

Meeting.    Its  History,  Advantages,  and  Abuses, 

with  approved  mode  of  conducting  it 25 

LEAVING  HOME.    By  the  author  of  Capt.  Russel's 

Watchword,  Ellen  Dacre,  Old  Red  House,  Blind 

Ethan,  etc.    Illus 25 

LITTLE  JERRY,  The  Ragged  Urchin,  and  under 

what  Teachings  he  was  Reclaimed  from  the  Street. 

lilas 25 


10  CATALOGUE  OP  BOOKS. 


THE  BELIEVING  TRADESMAN,  an  authentic  story, 
and  a  wonderful  illustration  of  the  power  of  faith. 
It  has  few  parallels  in  history.     lUus 25 

THE  SUNDAY  EXCURSION,  and  what  came  of  it.  A 
timely  work.    Illils 25 

BLIND  ETHAN.  By  the  author  of  Capt.  Russel's 
Watchword.    lUus 25 

ROBERT  RAIKES,  the  founder  of  Sabbath  Schools 
By  Rev.  Dr.  Cornell.  An  entirely  new  and  original 

work.    Elegantly  illustrated 25 

SONGS  FOR  THE  SUNDAY  SCHOOL  AND  VES- 
TRY      20 

BENNY'S  BIRDS.    Illus - 25 

STOLEN  GOLD  PIECE.    Illus 25 

ALICE  FIELD.    Illus 25 

SEALING  THE  SPIRIT 20 

THE  REMEMBERED  PRAYER.  A  charming  juve- 
nile.     Illus 20 

SHIPS  IN  THE  MIST.  By  the  author  of  Similitudes, 
etc.      Illus 20 

LAZY  STEPHEN,  and  what  made  him  a  valuable 
Man.     Illus , 20 

THE  LOST  HALF  CROWN.  A  charming  juvenile. 
Fully  illustrated 20 

TOM  MATHER  AND  THE  LOST  PURSE.  Reveal- 
ing the  Workings  of  Conscience  in  a  Little  Boy'a 
mind.     Illus 20 


CATALOGUE  OF    BOOKS.  11 

JESSIE  AT  THE  SPRING,  and  Other  Stories.  De- 
signed for  children  and  youth 20 

THE  LIGHTHOUSE  KEEPER'S  DAUGHTER.  A 
charming  example  of  Christian  faith  in  a  child.  Ill    20 

WILLIE  WILSON.  A  dear  child  was  Willie.  The 
story  and  its  associations  speak  for  themselves.    Ill    20 

THE  YOUNG  RECRUITING  SERGEANT.  The  mind 
of  a  little  child  sometimes  exercises  a  potential  in- 
fluence over  that  of  an  adult.    Illus 20 

YES  AND  NO.  Two  very  hard  words  to  speak  in 
the  light  of  a  temptation.    Illus 20 

TOM  BRIAN  IN  TROUBLE.  Much  easier  is  it  to 
get  out  of  it.  This  story  is  a  practical  commentary 
on  a  great  truth.    Illus 20 

DREAMING  AND  DOING,  and  Other  Stories.  Great 
truths  in  life  experiences.     Illus 20 

SANCTIFICATION.      By  Rev.  J.  Q.  Adams 20 

THE  HANDCUFFS,  or  the  Deserter.     Illus ....  a ... .     15 

THE  LUNATIC  AND  HIS  KEEPER,  and  other  narra- 
tives.   Illus 15 

MUST  I  NOT  STRIVE?  or  the  Poor  Man's  Dinner. 

Illus 15 

THE  LOST  TICKET,  or  Is  your  Life  Insured  ?    Illus.  15 

THE  CHILD  ANGEL.     Illus 15 

THE  DREAM  OF  HEAVEN.     A  narrative  work  of 

touching  interest.    Tenth  thousand 15 

SUNBEAMS  FOR  HUMAN  HEARTS 15 


DATE  DUE 

'i^^tmii-m^i^ 

h*;.- 

GAYLORD 

1 
I 

PRINTEDINU.S    A. 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Libraries 


1    1012   01237   1946 


mm>m 


■Iff  fi.  '^ 


/«    KSi 


